


From Exile to Salvation

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Series: Abandoned Concepts [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dubious Ethics, M/M, There are two Kenobis, the universe may implode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi is prepared to become Ben Kenobi after he turns Luke over to the Lars family. Only, the Force has other ideas. Funny, how many things you can affect when you wind up three years before your Master gets himself killed.





	

Obi-Wan stepped away from the new family, his heart heavy in the face of seeing the love they were already showing the boy. Luke would grow well, safe from the Sith.

He could not think of that monster as Luke's father. No, Anakin Skywalker was dead, no matter the reports of Darth Vader's survival.

He rode toward Anchorhead, to plan where he would take up his vigil, his exile, his heart turning instead to the news of Qui-Gon's mysterious survival in the Force. He wondered, and was less than mindful of the Force building, discontent with the situation. He only noticed as the Force suddenly erupted in a wave, crashing over him with powerful intent.

How long he felt like he was being torn apart and put back together, he could not say, but when he was aware of his circumstances, he found himself sprawled in a long-disused portion of the Temple itself... a Temple that rang with life, not death.

Shaking himself off, sure this was some vision, he began finding his ways to the higher levels, to see what the Force meant him to learn.

Kit Fisto was shepherding the young Tuskcat clan from their quarters towards one of the learning chambers, paying much more attention to the active younglings than the other adults moving through the Temple, when a powerful presence in the Force drew his eyes down and across to a lower level. Where he had expected to see Master Yoda or Dooku, or perhaps Master Koon... the human male he saw was -- bafflingly -- no-one he recognized. A full adult, but fairly young for it, he thought, with red hair and a full, neat beard and mustache, and a presence that was absolutely resonating from the walls. He appeared calm, almost disturbingly calm, but the sheer focus emanating from him must surely draw even Master Yoda soon. 

Obi-Wan looked up and felt a pang at seeing Kit (slain by Sidious) and the younglings (not the ones slaughtered by Ana... Vader.) He nodded politely, and then realized that they all resonated with the Force in normal ways. What kind of Vision was this?

Kit was startled at the easy, familiar nod from someone that was a stranger to him, but he nodded back, his eyes reflecting the light once, twice. Sometimes humans changed very quickly; was this just one that had been gone for a while? One of the younglings tripped, fell, and cried out, and he scooped her up to soothe her, balancing her small body on a hip and humming to her. When he had time to look back, the stranger was gone. 

Obi-Wan did not cringe at the cry of pain, just kept moving. He needed to get to the Council, see if that was where the Force needed him to be... yet the more he walked, the more he saw, the less convinced he was of this being a vision. No one impeded him; he was carrying a lightsaber, dressed mostly in a traditional style, and he knew where he was going.

That lack of security made his skin crawl now.

+++

Qui-Gon had been being bothered by a feeling that something was wrong with his padawan for the last half-hour of his tidying their rarely-used apartment, so despite the fact that he'd had every intention of leaving Obi-Wan with his friends for the day, he had left and headed to see what was the matter. Strangely, he felt drawn upwards, towards the Council tower, rather than down towards any of the leisure rooms... 

Obi-Wan was near his destination, mind slowly coming to terms with the fact this was not a typical Force vision at all, not even a Force quest, when he turned a corner and came face to face with his past.

"Master?" he blurted out, even as a part of his mind screamed that this wasn't possible. Another part, wry and amused, pointed out as rare as it was for them to have been in the Temple, it was extraordinary to actually see Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon blinked in surprise at the half-familiar voice, though much deeper and more resonant, on a title only two living beings would use so familiarly, and this was certainly neither of his good students... or was he? Somehow? Qui-Gon studied the man -- younger than he, by a fair few years, but not youthful -- startledly. That was the hue of Obi-Wan's hair, but it fell nearly to his shoulders, a full beard and mustache come in, bright blue eyes fixed on him in confused... hope and pain alike? "Hello?" 

As greetings went, it was certainly not his best, but this made no sense to him. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. This could not have been what Master Yoda meant with 'seek out Qui-Gon' at all.

"This is either the oddest Force vision or quest... or I am truly dead now. At least the latter would be welcome," Obi-Wan muttered to himself. He then felt immense guilt; Luke would have need of him. He could not, in good conscience, let himself die yet.

"I'm sorry, Master Jinn... but I recently went through a very terrible Force event, and am truly at a loss on if this is real, or the Force being interesting."

Qui-Gon had taken a couple of strides closer at that first mutter, well before the other man looked back at him with his presence radiating guilt and grief, and apologized. He reached out, carefully, and laid a hand on the man's shoulder -- and familiarity slammed through him at the contact. Familiarity, and what felt like a damaged bond snapping back into place. There was definitely a living body under his hand... "You seem to be present," he said, before adding the quiet, "Obi-Wan?" 

The knitting of that abruptly severed bond did more to convince Obi-Wan than anything else that this was true and real. He shook with shock at the severity of that realization, the impact of knowing all he could do to avert the horrors.

"Master," he breathed before he embraced Qui-Gon with all of his strength, uncaring at the unseemly manner of his display of affection and relief.

Qui-Gon made a momentarily stunned noise before his hand shifted behind his student's back, his other arm wrapping low around this man's waist, the bond between them resonating with Obi-Wan's shock and pain, relief and incredulity... "Shh," he murmured softly, "shh, Obi-Wan, I am here..." 

"So you are." Obi-Wan held on for long moments as he tried to steady himself. "You can help me save them all."

Qui-Gon kept this strange, wounded version of his padawan held close, trying to make himself a steady point for him, and then there were those words. "Save who, dear one?" 

"Everyone." Obi-Wan pulled back. "The Council needs to be warned. It must be why I am here."

"All right, then," Qui-Gon replied, even as his heart sank at the flatly honest 'everyone' that still carried so much grief in it. "I will go with you, as I think you would have some trouble convincing them of who you are without me. Besides, if I am to help you, I also need to know." 

"Yes, you do, Master. Because... it means saving you first." Obi-Wan tried to clear his head, and just breathe. "The Sith are not extinct, and they will win... unless I can convince the Council to listen."

Qui-Gon had started to ask what he had needed saving from -- it would not be the first time his padawan had rescued him, he was not insulted at the thought -- when the very next phrase had knocked that completely from his mind. "The _Sith_?" 

It had been a thousand years and more since the end of the Sith War, and at its end they had seemed broken, defeated and consigned to history where their foul twistings of the Force belonged. 

Obi-Wan nodded gravely. "I have spent the last thirteen and more years fighting their machinations. Beginning with the apprentice that... that..."

He had to take a deep breath to continue. "That killed you."

Now **that** was profoundly displeasing, not least because he could feel the pain of his death weighing on his padawan's shoulders. Qui-Gon tightened his arm, pulling him in closer once again, and said softly, "More than a third of your life, at least, dear one... not a comforting thought."

Obi-Wan leaned into that comforting embrace, closing his eyes. "You let him lure you on. Away from me. And you just could not... overpower him quickly enough, lost sight of the blade. I saw it... and could not get to you in time."

Qui-Gon made a disgruntled noise at that, shaking his head. "Stupid and sloppy of me, it sounds like. ...that was a very strange sentence."

Obi-Wan had to chuckle at that. "Oh Master!" He hugged him hard, then drew into himself as befit a Master of the Council. "Shall we? So I can get this out of the way and then make my plans."

Qui-Gon returned that embrace, held him close even as this elder-version of his padawan's sudden fall into reserved composure startled him. He had to agree that they did need to act, no matter how much the pain pouring from his padawan made him want to just take the younger man somewhere quiet and try to soothe the wounds in his heart, and he let the embrace fade, shifting back slightly as he nodded. "I think so, yes."

Obi-Wan moved in that direction, matching his step, even now, to the long-legged pace Qui-Gon could keep. Then again, Anakin had... The pain lanced through his composure, and he had to fight to not break down again. How many times on the transport had he cried over Luke's small form, cradled in his arms?

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, feeling that flash of sudden agony, almost tasting the tears himself. His padawan felt deeply, Qui-Gon knew that, and held his convictions passionately... but that grief was nearly crippling. He turned towards him, searching his face even as he kept walking.

The younger man forced his breathing into a pattern that helped him control his emotions better. "I thought of someone, Master, and the way it ended between us. It is part of what I must tell the Council.

"It was a very deep, very personal betrayal, though, and I mourn the man I lost."

Qui-Gon nodded slow, quiet understanding, and joined in that calming, stabilizing breathing pattern, hoping to hold it for him so that he could steady more. "I am sorry that you have seen such pain, my padawan," he said, rather than waste time with useless platitudes or truisms. 

"I hope to avoid the mistakes, and ferret out the cause, this time around, since the Force has done this." Obi-Wan gave him a look of gratitude. "What year... no, how old am I? I tended to forget the years anyway, as much as you kept us busy."

"Just past twenty-two," Qui-Gon replied, curious what the response would be. "And the Force does quite obviously have a purpose in mind, to have done something so... unique." 

Obi-Wan considered. That should give him plenty of time to effect the course of events. "I can... no, will do this," he said. "I have nearly three years to destroy the Sith, stop all of their plans, and protect the Order. And, as I know who the Master is now," and that pain flashed again, as he thought of Anakin kneeling to the monster, "I can work against him with all of my ability… with you, and hopefully the Order itself, on my side."

Qui-Gon smiled at that faith, though the flare of agony through his padawan did _not_ suit him, but then he considered, wondering what prolonged exposure to an elder, more skilled version of himself would do to his young student. "I will aid you in any way I can... but I do have my young student to think about, as well. We will find some way," he promised, his hand tightening on Obi-Wan's shoulder again. "And it does certainly sound as though you have an advantage, so far as changing things goes."

"I would prefer not to interfere with my own development, certainly." Obi-Wan smiled a bit at that. "And mostly, from you, support may be all I need." He would be busy digging into Palpatine's life and… and he could go get Anakin **now** , him and his mother…

That thought took his breath away. To have a chance to undo his mistakes directly? It was as strong a wish as merely undoing the hell they had all been through.

"Easy," Qui-Gon murmured softly, feeling that sudden flare of stunned... comprehension? and almost savagely focused intent, "easy, dear one. We're nearly to the Council Chamber, and after that, you can be about your plans." 

"I know. I know. They must know, in case anything happens to me." Obi-Wan nodded, while reaching out and resting a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder briefly. "Master… I am sorry I was quite as trying as I was," he said on a completely different tack.

"We match each other in that, I think," Qui-Gon replied, somewhat startled, as he studied the eyes and face turned to him. "I am hardly an easy man to live with, dear one. And you more than make up for the difficulties." 

There was a touch of chagrin in Obi-Wan's face as he shook his head. "I only ever wanted to be … what you wished," he said, choosing his words in such a way to hopefully safeguard his younger self's secret. It was not for _him_ , the experienced one, to attempt to pursue the truth of _that_ matter.

Qui-Gon shook his head, leaning back slightly into that hand. "A poor thing to wish, dear one. You -- rather obviously -- will be an excellent Jedi, better than I." And what had his student not been willing to say? No, perhaps best not to ask that. Or at least, not right now.

They reached the Council chambers, and Obi-Wan drew on all his years of patience, learned through a troubled relationship with his own padawan. He steeled himself for seeing dead comrades, and entered with full confidence that he would fix things.

Mace Windu looked up to see who was entering, and felt a return of the morning's headache on seeing a stranger, one that was an abyss of shatterpoints. That he was accompanied by Qui-Gon Jinn only intensified the headache. He took small comfort in seeing Master Yoda's ears flick in reaction.

"My apologies, Masters, for intruding on your day," Obi-Wan said, looking at the Council as it had existed before Anakin, before his Knighthood, before he'd lost his anchor in his master.

Qui-Gon settled off behind Obi-Wan's shoulder, watching as the Council reacted to the new presence in their midst. Mace looked as though he had a screaming headache, and Yoda was no more pleased. He kept his silence, as Plo Koon's head tipped slightly. 

The big Kel Dorian's voice was only mildly curious as he responded, "I think we would all like to know who you are, stranger, before we decide what to think of the intrusion..." 

"Of course, Master Plo," Obi-Wan said easily. Had he died at Wolffe's hands? Or had he been engaged by the other legion he led? He pushed that thought firmly away. "I am Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, returned to this point by the Force, and I believe it is because of the travesty I have lived through, that I am here.

"As, from my perspective, the entire Jedi Order has been eliminated."

"Impossible!" Saesee Tiin retorted. Obi-Wan forced himself to look that way and not imagine the death at Palpatine's hands.

Plo Koon seemed to blink, if Qui-Gon was any judge of his body language behind the protective goggles. "Nothing is impossible, Master Tiin, merely unlikely... Master Windu, what do you see on this matter?" 

Obi-Wan inclined his head slightly to the second oldest member of the Council, and then looked directly at Mace Windu instead. He had gotten closer to the man in the years after Naboo, counted him as a true friend… and could see that a lot of how Mace interacted with Anakin had only furthered Palpatine's plans. That would have to be avoided.

"I see more shatterpoints than I ever have before. Based on that, and the disturbance in the Force earlier, I am inclined to listen," Mace said.

"Listen, we shall," Yoda said firmly.

Qui-Gon was relieved to hear Yoda speak so firmly, and watched the other Masters curiously. 

Evan Piell frowned, his small, wizened face troubled, but he did not argue. Few people argued with Yoda when he took that tone, though, even other Masters of the Council. Even he sometimes avoided further discussion when that tone came out, Qui-Gon had to admit. 

"Well then, speak," Saesee Tiin said, looking at the stranger in their midst. 

"Thank you, Masters," Obi-Wan said, unconsciously speaking as their equal, too used to making hard decisions and coping with them. "I know that it is common belief that the Sith are extinct, but I personally have fought three known Sith, as well as their various Dark Force using allies," he began, as that would be the best way to get it started. "And, while I did not face the Master Sith, I do know his name."

The Council had numerous denials and outrage at that, but Obi-Wan maintained his composure, riding it out.

"How could the Sith have remained hidden these centuries?" Mace asked, cutting through the noise.

"That is unknown, Master Windu. They first revealed themselves to us almost three years from now, when the first Apprentice intervened in a situation that I and my Master were involved in." While he betrayed none of his pain outwardly, Qui-Gon caught a vestige of it, alongside anger and regret, in their connection.

Qui-Gon pressed light reassurance against the bond, while he watched the man his padawan could grow into with a fierce pride. Calm, composed, reasoned and steady, even in the face of the horrors he had suffered... an excellent Jedi, indeed. That he had had some hand in shaping this man... that was a legacy he was more than satisfied with. 

"What exactly happened, because of these Sith?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, his voice firmly polite.

Obi-Wan pulled the horrors into a timeline, and began. "In three years, there will be a blockade of Naboo, due to the trade restrictions and tariffs. The Trade Federation chose that point to begin. Looked like a minor incident, and Chancellor Valorum, as his wont," and he looked toward Qui-Gon in amusement, "requested Master Jinn investigate.

"It was but a ploy, I can see now, to maneuver Valorum out of office and allow the Sith Master to take the highest office, with a solid sympathy vote for the plight of his planet."

As his words connected with Mace's knowledge of who held which systems, one of the largest shatterpoints exploded in his mind, and he had to reach up, rubbing at his temples in pain. 

Qui-Gon heard the words, but it took several moments for him to actually comprehend what his student had said. A Sith, unsuspected on Coruscant, already within the Senate, and angling towards -- towards the _Chancellorship_ itself? 

'Three years', Obi-Wan had said a moment ago, and 'thirteen years' he had been contending with the Sith. Thirteen years, with a **Sith** at the very head and heart of the Republic... "My padawan," he said, quietly horrified, "how could he hide from the Council so long? We work often with the Chancellor, whoever it may be..." 

"Master, I wish I could answer that," Obi-Wan answered bleakly. "Because he had unfettered access to my padawan for that entire time. And while I did have issues… I never suspected him of being our enemy."

"The Senator from Naboo, representing the Chommell Sector, is a Sith?" Mace said aloud, and it reverberated along his sense with complete truth.

"A kindly man, rather aged for that planet's tendency to elect young people to power," Shaak Ti said, once she had reviewed who Mace meant. "A completely innocuous-seeming man, from a relative backwater planet… our greatest enemy. Cunning." She was apparently filling in for one of the others, possibly Yaddle, whom she would eventually replace, and that actually gave Obi-Wan a little more hope. She had been a strong ally on the Council at times.

Obi-Wan also wanted to cheer her for that support, but he restrained himself. Had she lost her second… yes, he was fairly certain it was too late to save her padawan. A shame, he thought, given how she had thrown herself into the care of the Vod'e.

"Masters, has Master Sifo-Dyas begun talking of a threat to the Republic, in the form of massive droid armies?" he asked, to direct the conversation.

It was Yoda who nodded this time, "Visions he claims to see, of danger coming, yes. Quietly, so far..." 

"He's going to get louder. And then take matters in his own hands, to procure an army against them." Obi-Wan felt another pang as he realized he was about to stop the creation of the very men he had bled for… but better this than to have them die so mercilessly, be slaves, and then be … whatever that was which stole them from themselves. "A cloned Army, created to serve the Republic, with us as the generals."

"Reprehensible!" Depa snapped, not even bothering to contain her distaste at it.

"I agree," Obi-Wan told her. "By and large, the best men I have met in my life, but there is treachery in their creation, a Sith ploy I believe, and… no being should be created solely to die. To serve without choice."

Yoda made a quiet noise, and Qui-Gon watched his grand-master's ears shift and prick forward, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan. "Believe this, you do... but grieve them, also and much..." 

"Who could do otherwise, Master," Qui-Gon asked, stepping in. "An army implies large numbers, and for all of those lives never to be born... if we can hear of that without some grief, some compassion, perhaps it would be better if we were _not_ saved!" 

/Oh I have missed you,/ Obi-Wan thought to himself about his Master, but he addressed Yoda. "Master Yoda, I find myself in agreement with Qui-Gon on that sentiment. And I will adamantly tell you all that this nonsense of considering Attachment as the root cause of all that plagues a Jedi into Falling is absurd," he added in his most rational voice. "Having come through three continuous years of war, and ten before that in a growing culture of danger and fear, I will state that Attachment has its place, when kept in moderation, just as any other natural choice and inclination of a sentient being."

Plo Koon steepled his talons in front of him, intrigued to hear Obi-Wan speak so. Shaak Ti, likewise, paid closer attention, sensing a lot of hard lessons in those words.

"However, my main concern is stopping the Sith… I won't presume to dictate the lessons we did not learn in time, concerning needed reformations in the Order," Obi-Wan said, keeping that calm voice.

Qui-Gon listened as his padawan spoke so firmly and calmly, but with a clarity of conviction no-one could doubt, and felt that pride again. Then there were those last words, and his mouth quirked in an amused smile. That sounded like his own phrasing when his mind was made up, more than anything else... and he had a feeling that those lessons were going to be taught to some of them very soon, simply by his actions. 

"Mmm... lack of presumption, good is," Yoda said, his voice sounding considering. "And stopping the Sith, the duty of all Jedi is." 

"Agreed, Master," Mace finally said, having gathered his strength together at last to be able to contribute. "Master Kenobi speaks truth, so far as I am able to sense. Which means we must marshal our strengths, and begin tearing down this Sith conspiracy, which must already be in the works."

"It most certainly has to be," Obi-Wan said. "In the span of the thirteen years since Darth Maul first appeared, their plans led to the destruction of Duchess Kyrze's peaceful government in the Mandalorian systems, the secession of thousands of systems to a Separatist movement, and eventually, the dissolution of the Republic itself, once the Jedi had been killed. There are far too many twists and turns, ones I doubt I even saw fully, for this to not have been elaborately planned with contingencies upon contingencies."

"How? How could they kill all of the Jedi?" Yarael Poof asked.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and then turned to look at the Master. "We have been steadily taking losses, members going missing, dying away from the Temple ever since the Stark-Hyperspace conflict, yes?" Several nodded, and he continued. "To the point that there are not enough to teach all the Initiates, even," he said in a deceptively mild tone. "Then, of two-hundred twelve Jedi at the first true battle of the Separatist war, only twenty who reached the surface returned.

"And the war claimed several more. Promising Knights, seasoned Masters, and Padawans trying to meet the need," he said. "We had been whittled down, but in the end, it was our troops that destroyed us. That Sith manipulation, I mentioned. I was in the field when it began. Men I had kept close for the full length of the war, my Commander who had only just given me back my lightsaber following a duel, vanished from my sense of them. They became as strangers, and I was under fire. I can only surmise some form of indoctrination we never uncovered."

Qui-Gon moved to lean against his padawan's shoulder at that, trying to steady him against the pain he could hear. "They 'became as strangers'? Their presences in the Force changed that completely?" 

That certainly spoke to brainwashing or embedded compulsions... "And it happened... throughout this army? Not only to you, but..." 

"All of us. I admit to surviving more by luck than skill… as I was in a state of shock even when I reached Coruscant, from all of the deaths striking through the Force in mere minutes," he said, and he did not quite manage to keep his anguish completely out of his presence as he looked around the room at beings who simply did not exist in his time any more, save Yoda.

"This is… a grave, grave thing to hear," Oppo Rancisis said with deep concern. "But is in keeping with the concepts of Sith treachery as we've learned through the historical holocrons. To turn allies into enemies, it is their mark."

Qui-Gon stayed close, kept his weight against his padawan's shoulder and side, that agonized grief ripping down the bond between them... but who would _not_ grieve at the murder of so many Masters and friends? Of even the young? 

No one he had any interest in knowing. 

"I do not want that future to come to pass, Masters. I cannot believe that I would have been brought to this point for any reason save to stop it!" Obi-Wan said once he had his emotions in hand again. "By necessity, the number of people who know about Senator Palpatine, or the Sith in general, needs to be limited. But I have worked alongside all of you under critical, stressful circumstances, and know that we can do this!"

"And we shall," Plo Koon said firmly. "Agreed?"

"Yes," Yoda said, as firmly, his gimer stick tapping once on the floor. "Stop the Sith, we must." 

Obi-Wan breathed a little easier. Now he could see about going to Tatooine… once he had managed rest and food.

+++

Once they walked out of the Council chamber, Obi-Wan sagged a little more. "Master… I should probably go rest, but I do appreciate your support in there," he said. He could find the transient quarters and borrow an empty room.

"If you think I'm leaving you alone, my padawan, you have lost your mind," Qui-Gon replied, settling his hand firmly on his padawan's back. 

"I'll only be sleeping, Master, and you… you have your true padawan to teach," Obi-Wan protested, but that hand felt… perfect. He wanted to be so selfish, and let Qui-Gon do as he intended, yet he could be firm with himself. "It's been a long… how many ever days, since the end began. And I have not rested much at all."

"My padawan is out with his friends for the day and probably very much enjoying it," Qui-Gon replied, "and you, dear one, have been through entirely too much to leave alone. Yes, I mean to be stubborn on this matter, so you may as well save your breath." 

Obi-Wan chuckled. "I concede the point, Master, as it's not an argument I am set on winning. This time, now that you've told me where he is." A day out with his friends when the Temple felt rather full? He thought it was when he had tested for his Soresu proficiency then. "I would be honored to have your company until I fall asleep, Qui-Gon."

"Good. Then let's go find a set of quarters for you, and let you rest. Though I think I will send an initiate to the cafeteria for a plate for you." 

"Now that's just spoiling me," Obi-Wan said, quirking his mouth in a sad little smile. He walked alongside Qui-Gon easily enough, putting thoughts of Tatooine and Anakin out of his mind. Now was for gathering his strength back, checking on his injuries to see if they had healed fully, and answering any questions the Council had.

And ignoring how the presence of his master, in body and spirit, was affecting his wishes.

Qui-Gon gestured at the first of the Initiates that crossed their path, and the young Bothan trotted close, her head tilting, fur lifting in curiousity. "Are you headed to a lesson, youngling?" 

"No, Master. May I help?" 

"Yes, you certainly may. A meal, please, from the standard human selection, for Master Kenobi, child. Bring it to the temporary quarters, I'll put him into the Temple system as soon as he's settled," Qui-Gon told her, and she nodded before trotting away again. 

"And now all the younglings are going to wonder if your padawan of this time has an elder relative," Obi-Wan said with a chuckle. "That might work… Just register me under the name 'Ben Kenobi'. I'd planned to use it on Tatooine in exile." His tone was wistful, saddened by loss again.

"... _Tatooine_?" Qui-Gon asked, startled, "why in the names of the galaxy would you pick that infernal desert to retreat to?" 

"It's the one place I could be certain our last hope would be safe," Ben said softly. "The daughter was going to be courting danger by being on a Core world, but him? I could hide there simply by knowing that Ana… that Vader would never look for either of us there." He could feel that pressure to cry building, something he hadn't allowed himself to honestly give into. And he couldn't; he had a plan now, and none of it would ever happen.

Qui-Gon felt the press of grief and pain, his hand firming on his padawan's back, and did not ask. That choked off half of a name, the angry near-spit of 'Vader'... his padawan was badly hurt, and trying to pretend he wasn't. He would wait to push on that until there were solid walls around them, and Ben had had enough of a meal to settle his nerves. 

Ben let himself be guided all the way to a room and in. "Do you mind if I clean up? I took several freighters to get the boy delivered to his family." He walked over to the closet, to find the spare clothing and see if any of it would fit him.

He hated to admit it, but he felt under-dressed without his pauldrons and gauntlets. If only Cody -- /Stop that. It's going away, never to happen!/

"Of course I don't mind," Qui-Gon replied, waving him in that direction as he tapped at the in-room terminal to register Master Ben Kenobi into the system. It complained at him, but there were advantages to being a Master, to having had Tahl as a dear friend, and to being more stubborn than the machine. 

Ben slipped into the 'fresher and peeled out of his clothes, dropping them on the floor as he was too tired to be careful about such things. He let himself use the water shower, using it to help peel away the bandages that were at least a day old to see his skin was mostly whole now. He'd forgo the bandages after his shower. Sleep should finish the rest.

When he emerged, he was severely under-dressed by his standards now, as he was only in a tunic and leggings. He felt slightly less ragged as he looked to the table and chair.

Qui-Gon had won against the computer and taken a seat, then returned to the door to take the meal from the young Bothan and thank her. It was waiting on the table in front of the empty chair when the younger man came back out of the 'fresher, looking much less bedraggled... and incredibly uncomfortable, behind his attempt at appearing calm. "What's wrong? No, never mind. Sit down and eat, first." 

Ben smiled and took a seat, then inhaled the scent of food… not ration bars… with pleasure. "Thank you for this." He took a few bites, then looked at Qui-Gon. "I've lived in at least partial armor for three years. Rarely had reason to be in just full Jedi attire, let alone stripped down this far."

"Armor," Qui-Gon murmured, not a question, simply turning the unfamiliar idea around in his mind. Armor, on a Jedi, like something out of the days before the Republic. "I suppose being without it would be unsettling... almost as much as the process of getting used to it was?" 

"Yes… I think my troops would have preferred to get me into a full suit of _beskar'gam_ , but the few times I borrowed a set, I felt too confined. And stripped it down to essentials." He ate a few more bites, taking joy in the plain but fresh food as one more reminder he was safely where he could make a difference. "Did I mention, the Vod'e were patterned off a Mandalorian bounty hunter? They had a language and culture based on Mando'a. Shocked them a bit, as I got my proficiency back in the language."

"You didn't mention... but I can see how that would have surprised them. Mando'a is not, after all, a terribly common language, especially in someone with such a pronounced Coruscanti accent," Qui-Gon replied, his mouth curving in a fondly teasing smile. "Would it help, or harm you, Ben, to speak of them? I can feel your..." it took him a moment to recall the Mando'a word he wanted, " _burcyan_ , for and with them. I would be glad to listen, if it would be a comfort." 

Memory and remembering were such a strong part of the old Mandalorian culture, and if Ben had been living among them again... 

"I think I will need to speak of them, because they were my life," Ben said softly. "It is the least I can do, given the choice I am making, to try and prevent Jango Fett from ever being in that deal to begin with. Of course, the first step to that prevention is asking you when you last spoke to your Master, I suppose. If you would be willing to try and stop him from deciding to take the path he did in my past."

Qui-Gon blinked, and then went very, very still, studying his padawan with sudden alarm hammering through his mind and body. Xan had been so much like his Master, and then Fallen... "What?" he asked, very softly. 

Ben freed one hand from eating and drinking to rest lightly on Qui-Gon's. "I am sorry, my master. In the aftermath of Naboo, as systems seceded or threatened it, it was Count Dooku that organized and led it. What little we can learn of what happened to bring the Vod'e into being points at him possibly having been involved.

"And there's the small fact that his attempt to execute me, a Senator, and my padawan led to the battle that began the War."

Qui-Gon let his fingers wrap around his padawan's hand, holding lightly, as he listened. There was honest grief there, and an edge of anger, and... "Excuse me? I think I must be developing a hearing difficulty." 

"I thought you had one all along," Ben said dryly with that edge of sardonic wit. He shook his head and continued. "I was investigating an assassination attempt against Senator Amidala… she took Chommel Sector after Palpatine's first replacement retired… and wound up following Jango Fett back to Geonosis. I was captured, and Dooku, otherwise called Darth Tyranus, interviewed me. He tried to use you, the idea you would have agreed with him, to turn me to his cause, but I knew better.

"Meanwhile, my padawan was protecting Amidala… and when they boosted my comm message to Coruscant, they decided to come rescue me. And did it as adeptly as I had managed my scouting," Ben said. "Dooku gave the order to let the beasts into the arena. He then gave the order to release the droid army on Mace's team that came to rescue us. 

"When the Vod'e arrived under Master Yoda's command, Dooku escaped, with us in pursuit. I admit that I failed rather spectacularly against him, as did my padawan. And when Yoda faced him… he used Master Yoda's compassion for my padawan and I to make an escape. In the years since, I have managed to hold my own a little better, but he is a fierce opponent."

Qui-Gon had snorted at that first comment, amused by his padawan's dry wit even in the face of this situation... but after that, he listened with a slowly rousing anger. The idea that his Master could Fall, could not only _Fall_ but become a Sith, their worst, most determined enemies, could help engineer the death of the entire Order -- the Order he had served his entire life -- filled him with it, his shoulders and back tightening in response. 

The further idea that he would have tried to murder his own lineage, and a Senator, caused the deaths of nearly two hundred Jedi... "I may kill him myself," he said, finally. "What in the many names of the galaxy is he **thinking**?!" 

"Power, evidently, alongside his conviction that the Order had failed utterly," Ben said with a weary voice. "I cannot lie; we were on the verge of self-destruction. Too rigid, tied to traditions that did not work for the role we had taken on. Too mired in politics to have a clear view of that situation, and too out of touch with the people we were meant to protect, let alone looking after one another!"

His rant released several of the primary causes he could see in the fall of the Order, but more, they lanced some of his pain over failing his padawan. He'd only ever wanted to be a model Jedi… and a model Jedi was not a healthy or wise thing to be.

"I've been saying a number of things rather like that for a very long time," Qui-Gon said, quiet and thoughtful, even as the Living Force rang with its agreement with his heartbroken, grieving padawan, "but not nearly so elegantly, or with such surety. 

" _Power_ ," he muttered in disgust. "Of all the stupid reasons to do something..." 

"I agree, Master." Ben pushed away the now empty tray and leaned back, closing his eyes as he did. "Maul is driven by hate, Tyranus by power, and Sidious.... Palpatine, that is, is both. I think that is why he was able to defeat Master Yoda in combat. He was waxing strong on his emotions, while Master Yoda had just lost every youngling he ever encouraged in the Force."

"Hate I can comprehend," Qui-Gon replied, watching this man his padawan had grown into, "the desire for power I never have." Those other words, the 'Master Yoda had just lost'... "Not every, dear one. You live." 

Ben sat back up, flushing slightly. "For all the good it did us," he whispered softly, before abruptly rising from the table. /No, not thinking about Vader. I must focus on Anakin, on protecting my brother from all the ways I made him more vulnerable to that manipulative _hut'uun_./ He came to where he could squeeze Qui-Gon's shoulder. "May I request one small thing, Master? On top of all the help you've given so far? I truly, sincerely know that I must sleep… but it is an elusive creature at best. Can you try and push me to do so?" If he went down under a command, maybe… just maybe… he wouldn't have nightmares. He'd forget about the lack of bodies in nearby tents, their sense of duty and honor and family wrapping around him protectively.

He might even cope with a bed that would be empty for the rest of his life, because he would not, ever, tempt fate again by falling prey to loving a person as a close companion, such as Cody had been.

Qui-Gon caught his hand in gentle fingers, looking up at his padawan. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said quietly, "do not say 'for all the good it did us' when you have unveiled the Sith intending to kill us all before his plans can come to fruition. 

"And of course you can ask. Also, yes, I will. Let us go get you settled, then." 

"I honestly never deserved you as my Master," Ben told him, more emotion there than he really wanted to show, and went to curl up on the bed, trusting Qui-Gon's strength of will to let him get the sleep he needed.

"No, dear one," Qui-Gon replied once Ben was settled into the bed, "you have that backwards. You -- the young man I know well, I mean in this case -- are the best thing that has happened to me in more than a decade, and I will not hear you speak so of yourself." 

It felt good to be called by such names, and yet Obi-Wan had to navigate this carefully. "Thank you, Master." He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind as much as possible, to make Qui-Gon's task easier.

"You're welcome, my padawan," Qui-Gon answered, laying a gentle hand across this wounded young man's brow. His presence was well-shielded even in his exhaustion, but the connection between them was strong and clear, and he ran his will down it gently. //Rest now, dear one,// he told him, firm and focused, //you must sleep.// 

There was no denying that command, not even after all the years as a grown man with a padawan of his own. Ben slipped into blissful unconsciousness with just a hint of the love he felt touching the faith he had in his Master.

+++

Ben came back to himself slowly, and could feel that his body had given in completely to the exhaustion, keeping him unconscious for most of a day. He couldn't remember having slept that much in too long. But then… they'd been almost non-stop since just before the Chancellor's abduction, with no real time to breathe.

He could keep the grief and anger at bay better now. He could focus on what needed to be done.

First, he'd make sure he could find Kamino in the Archives. If he could, then maybe Dooku hadn't yet been spoken to by the Sith. As early as it was, Ben was hopeful on that point.

He remembered the tales of the Nulls, though, and had often wondered at them being older than Rex or Cody, both of whom had been in the most advanced batch when he first went to Kamino. How early had the cloning project began? Would Ben research and find his timeline was off, that the first batches were already in place?

If Dooku had already Fallen, that would hit Qui-Gon hard… and Ben would need to try and keep him from getting killed by dealing with Dooku directly, perhaps.

His second move, once he knew about Dooku, would be Tatooine. Which would mean acquiring credits and a ship. Which would probably necessitate a trip down into the lower levels of the city, to practice his gambling skills.

Or going to Bail. The thought appealed, to go to Bail now, who was still in an under-secretary position to Bail Antilles, the elder man from the rival family. His friend had resources, and was open enough to actually believe him.

Ben picked himself up from bed to start getting ready for his day, dressing in clean Jedi garb, acquiring his sabers and other gear out of the soiled set in the 'fresher. Those got dropped into the laundry recycler, before he stared in the mirror a moment.

"There is no try."

With that decided, he moved to leave the room he had borrowed, going to find food before he tackled the Archives. He nodded absently to people he knew, taking a vague pleasure in befuddling them. He didn't realize that it was more the strength of his Force presence that was bringing the stares; no one could know all the Jedi after all.

He was still in the commissary when he saw himself coming in, Bant on one side, and Quinlan on the other. It made him duck his head down a bit, even as he better remembered when he had fallen to. Of course if Quinlan and Master Tholme were in Temple, he had managed to find time to go out with his friends. Quin… had been quite the instigator. 

A surge of hope hit him, as he realized Quin had been deep undercover; he might have survived. He had been so anti-clone, as far as Jedi involvement was concerned, that he would have been well away from them. Bant however… had either died with the younglings of the Temple, or on Kamino, as she had sometimes assisted Shaak Ti out there.

None of that mattered. Changing it, that was his goal. He ate quickly, then went to deal with necessities.

+++

Qui-Gon had left the elder version of his padawan securely asleep so that he could spend the night in his own quarters, with his young padawan if he returned -- he had, and so Qui-Gon had told him that business with the Council was going to keep them here a few more days, and to enjoy the time with his friends. Obi-Wan had looked at him with those surprised blue eyes, and Qui-Gon had reached to squeeze his shoulder. He wasn't entirely certain how to explain his padawan's elder self to his padawan, yet, but the Master's apologies and sadness had told him that he needed to do some repairing of the relationship with his own padawan. Not that he was entirely certain where something new had gone wrong, but... it would need doing. 

Obi-Wan had cheerfully left early, and Qui-Gon had gone to see if Ben was still asleep... and found him gone. Right, where was he? He followed that sense of sadness and the powerful presence in the Force... towards the Archives. 

+++

The trip into the Archives had proven hopeful, at least. Kamino was still there. Ben was taking advantage of the quiet to access what was known about Palpatine, trying to familiarize himself with his enemy, possibly find a weak point to go after. Unfortunately, that angle wasn't turning up much, no matter where he searched.

Qui-Gon stepped inside and listened, glancing through the long rooms as he moved. There were few people here this morning, and that made it easy to find Ben at a terminal, his fingers flicking across the screen and touchpad. Qui-Gon made a soft noise from two meters away, not wanting to startle Ben -- he had the feeling that might be fatal -- and floated a seat along with him as he came closer. 

Ben turned to see his master there, giving him a smile that was honest and warm before refocusing on his data search. "Good news is that your master hasn't yet sabotaged the Archives' records on Kamino, so there is hope in that corner," he said softly, so his voice would not carry. "Bad is that I can't find anything of use on Palpatine." Ben did not mean to be so mission-focused; it was just part of who he was. And it did make it easier to distract himself from personal topics.

Qui-Gon had felt his heart tugged at by that smile, the honest quick warmth in the curve of his mouth and the light in his eyes. Perhaps Ben truly was doing better for the rest -- and then the words, steady and quick and businesslike told him otherwise, rather firmly. For Ben to be so focused on the tasks he had set for himself -- no, he was not doing better, he was simply retreating behind the tasks he must accomplish. 

"I am pleased to hear the first, at least," he replied, placing the seat close to Ben and settling down onto it. "The other is... rather more frustrating. I have to admit, I can barely place a face to the name..." 

"How I wish. I've had to hear 'the chancellor this' and 'the chancellor that' for years, had to be in his presence too often. I always put my ill feelings down to the stress he caused in my training relationship with my padawan," Ben told him with a sigh. "If only one of us had seen it earlier!"

"Your padawan?" Qui-Gon did ask, this time, his hand stretching out to rest on Ben's shoulder, trying to reassure him. "It's odd, thinking of a grand-padawan, and the amount of your grief over him... what happened, dear one?" 

Ben considered how to phrase it for a long time, then cleared his search and sat back from the terminal. "You found him. Were adamant about taking him as your padawan, in front of the Council. Mind you, we hadn't even discussed ending our association… and I took it poorly, I admit.

"The Council feared the shadows and uncertainty clinging to him, and I shared their belief, initially. Even aside from my personal feelings. Yet… when your last request of me was to train him, I agreed, and insisted on taking him as my padawan."

"I _what_?" Qui-Gon only kept his voice low with an effort, stunned at the idea and rather infuriated with himself for it, his hand tightening on that strong shoulder, shaking his head. "Wait, no. Not here. I think this -- or I, at least -- may get loud. Your quarters?" 

"Very well. That gives me more time to decide between explaining myself to Bail to ask for a loan, or going gambling." Ben stood smoothly, his body answering the demands more easily for finally having rested. He walked with Qui-Gon, trying not to crowd the man's space, but definitely savoring that living presence in his mind and near him.

Qui-Gon snorted and reached out, laying his hand low on Ben's back to draw him in -- the words might have been lightly amused, but a moment ago, about this lost padawan of his, there had been so much pain and angry grief. "Gambling, is it?" 

"I must go get my padawan," Ben said with a deep seriousness. "I can't risk changing events and one of the Sith finding him first. I need to get to him, fix the mistakes I made… because before he Fell, he was the greatest Jedi of his generation, with the potential to be the best one ever." He meant every word, even as they were layered with guilt and grief alike. "I cannot fail him this time, Qui-Gon. Which means enough currency, non-Republic, to free he and his mother from the Toydarian that owns them."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly, listening to Ben answer him, listening more to the mixture of bitter grief and guilt that rode his voice along with the pure determination. How could a Jedi that Ben would assess as so very gifted come to Fall? Why? Yes, Qui-Gon himself had come close to it, in his grief and rage over Tahl's murder, but he was no great Jedi, not comparatively. 

What was wrong in their line, what had happened to them, that his master, his padawan, and a grand-padawan could all Fall so close together? That he had come so close to joining them? What was it that needed to be changed? Was it, as Ben had said, something in the Order... or something in them? 

The last words Ben had said, the 'Toydarian that owns them' set his lips tight together, long-familiar outrage setting his jaw in a more stubborn line. He had no tolerance for slavery -- but few slavers had the bravery to lift a weapon against Jedi, and he could not kill them when they were defenseless. "I follow all of this," he murmured, just loud enough to carry to Ben's ears. 

Ben led him back to the room he was using, and opted for the small couch instead of the chairs at the table. He settled in a corner, and considered where to begin again. 

"Anakin Skywalker, whose mother informed you there had been no father, whose midi-chlorian count was higher than Master Yoda's, pulled me back to the Light," he finally said. "This boy who was steeped in shadows, that I accepted rather than risk him being lost to the Sith then, that represented one last link to you… was so full of love and compassion and need to help that I could not dwell in my anger and grief.

"And it was good, Qui-Gon, at first. I was willing to do anything it took to teach him, and he was so willing to learn. Slowly, so slowly, though… he began to question in ways that were very un-Jedi. Not just asking why and how, but throwing scenarios together that had no true answer. He questioned such basic things… argued at the drop of a hat. By the time we went to Geonosis, Anakin and I were constantly strained to be civil… if there was no fight. Give us a battle, and …"

Ben's voice trailed off as he searched for words to encompass what that was like. "We were as one, when we were united in a battle. Two bodies, one spirit, and fairly unstoppable. I say that without modesty or arrogance, simply a truth."

Qui-Gon settled down next to Ben on the couch, listening intently. A midi-chlorian count higher than Yoda's? A human or near-human child with no father and that kind of potential... fascinating. Very fascinating. What were the questions this 'Anakin' had asked, that made ben so uneasy? 

Strained to be civil. _Obi-Wan_ , having difficulty being civil to someone he cared so deeply for? Madness. That last description, though, baffled him. How could a pair that fought when things were peaceful become that unified when there was peril? That took trust, and how could there be that kind of trust in such a strained relationship? 

It was baffling, but Ben was so sincere... and there was that comment in the Council about the Sith having had access to his padawan since he had come to the Temple... "His questioning... you think it was prompted by the Sith?"

"Yes. Because… no matter what answer or logic I found, it was never good enough. But they were over basic, minor matters. Later, when he asked questions about Jedi duties to people and what we were doing, those made sense and made me uncomfortable for the truth in them. By then, though, we had, I thought, mostly mended the breach.

"You see, he was knighted just after Geonosis, but our units were often assigned together. And we found a level of camaraderie that we hadn't had since he was a boy, a partnership that was… everything I could have dreamed of having with him. He was my friend and brother in all things. When I last saw him, before it all ended, I thought in all honesty we were better than we had ever been before, with the end of the war potentially in sight." Ben shook his head. "And somewhere during my mission to Utapau, it came apart. Maybe it was what I had asked him to do for the Council, over my best objections to them. Maybe it was the culmination of thirteen years of exposure to the Sith. Or maybe… maybe there was something I didn't see, something Padmé couldn't or wouldn't tell me."

"What is minor to one person can be the world to another, my dear one," Qui-Gon said softly, shifting his body to wrap an arm behind Ben's shoulders, squeezing his far shoulder lightly as he tried to provide at least some comfort. Xanatos' Fall had nearly ripped his heart out of his chest, he knew that pain too well... but Xan had not been deliberately corrupted, unlike this boy, which had to make it even worse. "I am glad to know that things were good between you for a time, at least... and so very sorry for your pain." 

Ben leaned into his master, sighing softly. "I knew you would empathize," he said softly, acknowledging the past. "I will keep him safe this time… it might be easier to start with him a shade younger. I think he'll be… six, maybe seven when I find him. That will make a small difference.

"And he won't be plagued by Palpatine, who oh so firmly insisted he had to take an interest in the boy that saved his homeworld…" Ben shook his head in amusement and despair mixed. "Anakin had gone back to Naboo with us, and you told him to stay where he was… which was in the cockpit of a fighter. Good hiding place, except he activated weapons to help us with a pair of droidekas, and that set its autopilot off.

"He wound up joining the space battle above, getting the astromech to wrestle control to him, and blowing up the droid control ship. Saving everyone by doing so. And that? That was Anakin to the core. Always doing the impossible."

Qui-Gon shook his head, wondering at a boy of that age -- so, what had he been, nine or ten when found in Ben's timeline? Old, to begin training, even older than Xan, but Xan had never had that kind of loving spirit... -- becoming an Initiate or padawan. And a child that had been a slave, at that? 

What he heard in Ben's voice was as important if not more, though. "You love him, very much," he said softly. "And you are more proud of who he was before he Fell than you have any ability to express." 

The Sith must not have this boy, if he was so gifted as that, if he could change Obi-Wan's mind so profoundly. "Perhaps Bespin would be a better place for the three of you to go, after you have rescued them?" 

Ben mused on that. "A thought to consider, though possibly not with the right kind of challenges for Anakin. I am tempted to take myself to Naboo with him, because of certain entanglements, but that leaves us prey to Palpatine. Nor is Mandalore a good option, as peaceful as it is supposed to be. Though I must warn Satine of traitors in her midst, somehow."

Ben frowned, considering the best way to approach the woman he had felt deep feelings for, to convince her of the danger. Though, if he stayed clear, or stopped Maul earlier somehow… no, the problem was already there, and her own sister was part of it.

"So many nooses and snags, master, to navigate, if I am to undo the plotting that has to already be in place."

Qui-Gon hummed, low in his throat, keeping his arm around his padawan as he considered that. "He is inclined to... action, then. Much like another young man I know? And yes... it seems there are a good many strands to the web entangling us." 

If the boy was motivated by love and compassion, by a need to give help... Qui-Gon truly did think that Djinn's offshoot of the Order, with his different way of thinking and far greater freedom, would be better for this unknown child. As well as better for Ben, after that firm declaration in the Council Chamber. He had not been willing to argue with Obi-Wan stridently enough to move he and his padawan to them, not when Obi-Wan was so devoted to the Temple... perhaps he had been wrong. 

Ben gave his master the best innocent eyes he could manage, an effect ruined by the full beard, and protested. "I only followed my master's lead on that. For a consular, you certainly did find more than enough trouble for us!"

The Altisians would have been a much better fit for Anakin, but Ben could not just hide away and train the boy; he would need to be tearing apart the Sith.

Where had they traced Ventress back to? Would it be possible to prod her away from her path, given the aid she'd apparently rendered Ahsoka in time of need?

Qui-Gon laughed at that attempt at the innocent expression -- one he was too familiar with from his padawan, and knew better than to believe -- and shook his head slightly. "Things do have a way of exploding into far more of a situation than intended, don't they?

"And what are you turning over now, dear one?" 

"How to best work on the problem and take care of the boy, possibly save another from a dark path, and oh, yes, how to handle the mother, whom I never met and failed my padawan completely over," Ben said in an even tone. "A ship… so gambling it is, so I can get something completely mine that won't trace back to a friendly power… is probably my best bet. Make contact with Djinn so that I can stay there if needed… but maintain ties here.

"Chasing after Ventress might be an unnecessary point, but it would let me pay a debt incurred by my grand-padawan if I could turn her away from her own Fall." He shrugged a bit under that strong arm holding him. "You know, just taking on all the problems, as one does."

"Which of those can you transfer to my shoulders, dear one, rather than try to split yourself a dozen ways?" Qui-Gon asked, relatively certain that it would be the stranger, 'Ventress', rather than any of the other pieces. "...and what happened to the mother?" He asked the question gently, but that 'failed my padawan completely' warned of horrors. 

"Anakin had visions… that I did not recognize as such. She was brutally murdered, on Tatooine… and I believe Anakin did something. That was the impression I got when Padmé took me to task on his behalf," Ben said. "So this time, I will take her with us, and figure out a safe place for her… or keep her close so Anakin has her support.

"As to pieces… if you recall a Knight named Ky Narec, he left a girl half-trained out in the Unexplored Region, one that in my time is exploited by Dooku and committed to the Dark Side. Only, at some point, she chose to aid Ahsoka instead of turning her in, and I feel that debt should be paid. Not to mention, there were times when she was almost pleasant company."

Ben could hear the scorn and loathing in Anakin's voice at that idea, but there was something about Asajj Ventress that had been worth saving, if she had aided Ahsoka.

"The planet was Rattatak. It's possible Narec's not dead yet; we didn't get a cohesive timeline of her life in our intel operation," Ben admitted.

Qui-Gon made a quietly dismayed noise at the idea of a woman murdered with her child sensing or Seeing it, and squeezed his padawan's shoulder gently. "That sounds like a wise plan, dear one. "Rattatak," he murmured afterwards, "not a planet I know of.. but then, you did say it was towards the Unexplored Region. Do you have any more idea of a location, my padawan? I do remember Ky Narec, he's been gone for some time. Obi-Wan and I will find them, or her if he is no longer alive, and attempt to keep her in the Light." 

"Good. She is a dual wielder, though if you find her soon, it won't be bastardized with Makashi at least," Ben told him. "Nearly as good at it as Ahsoka… not that I would ever have told either of them that." He thought about that intel report, the one he had ordered in hopes of finding a way to turn Ventress against her master. "It is somewhere in relation to Dathomir, because she is most assuredly Dathomiri in origin. But beyond that… I'd see if there were general routes planned by Narec when he left, to get an idea." He leaned his head more on Qui-Gon's shoulder, considering. "Find out if Nute Gunray has a weak spot, enemies within the Trade Federation. Perhaps that angle can be neutralized. Surely one of the Masters could work on that for us?"

His first thought had been Kit, but Kit was yet a Knight, still training his second padawan.

"Dathomiri... that world has been forbidden for over three hundred years, hasn't it? I'll see what I can find of his plans. If not much, then it will be an interesting investigation for my padawan and I, while you go to save yours. And surely so," Qui-Gon agreed with the last, considering which of them was skilled at that kind of maneuvering. "....Knight Kai Hudorra, perhaps. No one can find secrets like a Bothan." 

"That is truth," Ben said. He wished the Bothans had been more involved in efforts to end the war to begin with, but their world had not been as threatened. "And… I think you and your padawan could deal with a quest like that."

Confined quarters and young Obi-Wan getting to a point of expressing his own opinions more frequently? Yes, that should root out the underlying issues nicely, and then his younger self could move on from the wistful wishing for the impossible.

"Any suggestions on where I should begin my quest for a ship and currency?" Ben asked, letting his satisfaction with Qui-Gon's idea settle him. "If I remember correctly, Darsha was betting mostly at the Glittering Gala… but that's a bit highbrow for what I have in mind."

Qui-Gon cast Ben a mimic of the innocent look he'd been treated to a few moments ago, then laughed quietly. "I do have a couple of ideas," he agreed, thinking of Coruscant's mid-sectors. 

What had that undercurrent been? What was he missing? 

"Do enlighten me, Qui-Gon, as your knowledge of disreputable games far exceeds mine… for this point in history," Ben said in a droll tone, settling back into his own space to take notes and plan his strategy for the night.

Qui-Gon made a half-amused noise and let Ben sit back from him, not wanting to push the issue of whatever else was wrong in his mind when he was planning, and settled to that discussion. 

+++

Winning enough to potentially buy two slaves, and acquiring a ship with hyperdrive and the ability to handle at least four people (as Obi-Wan wasn't ruling out picking up some stray at some point, given his luck) required consuming more alcohol than he'd had since… since the aftermath of Umbara. 

He wasn't thinking about that travesty, except as a sidenote to make certain Mace watched Krell.

So it was that Ben Kenobi made his way back to the Temple more than a little tipsy, and more or less on auto-pilot for where to go. Which meant he went toward the rooms he'd lived in for a quarter of a century. There just hadn't been a real need to move out of them, when he nor Anakin were in residence often, and the rare times they had been, with Ahsoka, they had either made it work… or lost their padawan to the barracks, where she preferred to be.

Inside the apartment, Obi-Wan stirred from where he had nodded off on the couch, studying for his next test on mechanics. While he had no hope of excelling, he really did need to know how to do more than best bypass a power converter to restart a ship. He'd neglected that particular aspect of his training for **entirely** too long. At least his master hadn't scolded … or, worse, yet noticed and come back to put him to bed this time, as though he were still just a boy, and not more than twenty.

There was something, a stirring in the Force that was solid and powerful and… tinged by infinite sadness. That it felt uncomfortably familiar made him curious, and he set his pad on the low table to get up and go investigate.

Qui-Gon woke at the feeling of the doubled connection in his mind nearly converging, realized why that must be, and kept the curses he wanted to spit off his lips as he got to his feet and moved into the main portion of the apartment -- just in time to see his padawan (the one still with the close-cropped hair and braid) open the door. 

Ben blinked, staring at an image out of a mirror too many years ago (oh, yes, so many years ago, when the young man in front of him was a good twenty-two years old), and then shook his head, smiling ruefully. "My apologies, padawan," he said. "I got turned around. I do hope I didn't disturb you."

"No need to apologize, Master," Obi-Wan said politely, curious about the man and why he'd wound up here. "And you probably kept me from getting a cramp later. Will you be able to find your way now?"

Qui-Gon leaned back against the wall, watching them rather like those without the Force watched an impending collision of supply freighters, trying to keep himself calm. How was this going to go... and should he follow his instincts (once his padawan was abed) to follow Ben and see if the alcohol would help loosen his tongue and his controls on his pain so that he could truly grieve everything he had lost? 

"I am certain I can, young one. Thank you." Ben nodded once to his younger self, then turned to go find his correct bed. That… had been interesting. He really had been a very young-faced young adult.

Obi-Wan closed the door after a moment, and made to go toward his room, only stopping as he noted his Master. "Did I wake you?" he asked softly, worried about interfering with his master's rest.

"Not at all, dear one," Qui-Gon replied, shaking his head. It had not been the padawan in their quarters, after all, who had awakened him. He could hardly believe his padawan had not realized the strangeness, the identity of the person in front of him, but then, Obi-Wan did listen to the Cosmic Force more closely than the Living. "Asleep over your datapad again?" 

Obi-Wan blushed, nodding. "Trying to make certain I don't get low marks on the exam, again. I'll never hear the end of it from Garen and Quinlan." He yawned, and started padding toward his room. "Curious how anyone could confuse the transient quarters for the padawan apartments." He shook his head. 

"You're right, you wouldn't," Qui-Gon agreed in mild amusement. "I do not think he was... entirely sober, my padawan, and if he has been long away from the Temple, perhaps he returned to what were his quarters when he was regularly here as a youth."

There was no 'perhaps' about it, but as Ben and the Force had not given it away, Qui-Gon had no intention of it. These were as far from the quarters he had shared with _his_ old Master, or with Xan, as he had been able to wrangle, so there should be no oddity in his words.. 

"Maybe. That makes sense." Obi-Wan gave his master a grin. "Do try and get some sleep, Master. I have to meet with Master Che for healing lessons tomorrow morning, so I will be out early and you can sleep in."

"I'm not so old as to need to sleep all the time, my young friend," Qui-Gon replied, smiling at him in amusement as he said it. "You, who are still growing, are rather more in need of it than I, actually. Go on, to bed with you, and sleep well. I think I will go check on our wandering brother before retiring again." 

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan obediently went to bed, settling in to get the sleep he needed.

+++

Ben had paused along his walk, taking in the atmosphere of the Temple, realizing he couldn't remember it being this calm. Perhaps that was a trick of memory; the trials of his younger years had left their own marks, and then there had been Anakin and the Separatist Crisis.

Right now, it felt like everything could possibly be fine. Sighing, he moved on, considering that peace as a balm on his frayed nerves.

+++

Qui-Gon did not bother to pick up more than his lightsaber, it was late enough that sleeping robes rather than full gear were more likely to be seen. He stepped out of the apartment and left, making probably better time than Ben was on his way to the transient quarters, having every intention of being there before he could close the door. 

He did catch up, turning the corner onto that wing only a few meters behind Ben. 

While Ben was inebriated, he wasn't detached from survival, and turned at the presence. "Ah, it's you," he said, once he placed his master as the person. "I apologize, if I'm the reason you're awake. I apparently failed to engage my brain once I stepped into the Temple." He opened his door and gestured for Qui-Gon to join him if he wished.

Qui-Gon shook his head, "There's no reason to apologize, Ben. It's all right." He moved to follow him in, quite willingly. "I am somewhat bemused at my young padawan, but that's an entirely different story. How went your night carousing?" 

"I now own a ship, that I verified the existence of and applied a lock to before returning. And have a logical amount to purchase both of the Skywalkers, much as I'd rather just persuade the owner to change his ways," Ben said. "But Toydarians are as immune as Hutts."

"Very successfully, then," Qui-Gon said, approving of the skill that took, before he blinked slightly at that last. "They are? That I did not know. Interesting...." 

Ben had to laugh. "That's how I found out, by you being grumpy at not being able to convince him to take Republic credits." He flopped on the couch so that he could work on his boots. "You'd left me on the ship, but were at least staying in touch."

"Oh?" Qui-Gon asked, curious, even as he made a mildly indignant face at the idea of being stymied by a quirk of biology and oddly amused by hearing about something he was never going to have the opportunity to do. He watched to see if his padawan needed any assistance with the boots, given that he'd been tired and tipsy enough to come to their quarters rather than these. 

Ben worked at one boot for most of a minute, then decided it didn't matter; he knew how to sleep in boots. "We had a very controlled crash on Tatooine. You, Jar Jar, Artoo, and the queen-pretending-to-be-the handmaiden trotted off to get parts, while I stayed with her pilot, captain, the handmaiden-pretending-to-be-queen, and the other handmaidens.

"I can only presume it was actually Anakin that drew you to that shop, even if you had no idea, given how focused on the parts you were. The Toydarian was immune, though, and that meant you got tangled up in an elaborate scheme, using Anakin's pod-racing ability, to get the parts and his freedom… but you couldn't get his mother too. And, I never thought of it. Apparently, Padmé didn't either." Ben sighed, shaking his head. "One of us should have."

Qui-Gon moved over to crouch beside Ben, his hand slipping along first one boot to ease it off, then the other, as he listened. "A controlled crash, was it? Jar Jar? And.... _pod-racing_? A human child? -- he is human, isn't he? Something about the name sounded it..." 

The handmaiden and queen mess sounded entirely to complicated for his inebriated friend to explain, but he might ask again later. There was that name again, 'Padmé', and tied, once again, to Anakin... 

"Jar Jar Binks, the PLF you had acquired on Naboo. He's Gungan. And we had been hit, escaping the planet. Better to land on Tatooine, which was Hutt and therefore not looking for the Queen, than any of the Trade Federation planets." Ben realized his boots were gone, blinked at Qui-Gon, and then snorted. "Thank you, Master." He found himself looking at Qui-Gon a little too intently, knew he was, and blushed slightly before ducking his head down.

"Mmm, that makes sense," Qui-Gon agreed, though the idea of a Hutt-controlled planet as safer territory was a little disturbing. "You are quite welcome, dear one," he replied, before catching the way Ben was looking at him, the intensity of focus and then the blush... and perhaps it was that he had been puzzling at it for a while now. Perhaps it was that Ben's shields were lower with the alcohol he'd had. But suddenly the odd undercurrents and pain made sense, and Qui-Gon asked, soft and startled, "Still, Obi-Wan?" 

The blush deepened, and Ben tried to stammer some denial, rather than interfere with what would pass between his younger self and his master.

Only he couldn't. "Master, one mistake I have consistently made in my life is falling in love with those I either cannot have or am fated to lose. You are one of those that fell into both categories," he said instead. "Not once did we ever revisit that conversation, though, Master. I did learn to focus my emotions appropriately, and keep them well-hidden, so as not to embarrass either of us again."

Qui-Gon stared at him, his surprise growing stronger by the moment -- and then there was that last, and his surprise turned to dismay. It was obvious by the phrasing, the careful way he was speaking, and he was rather grateful that he was already crouched at his padawan's side. "We 'did not revisit' that conversation, dear one," he said softly, "because I was apparently _idiot_ enough to get myself killed before we could." 

Ben looked at him in confusion. "I never would have, Master. And after the fiasco with the Council concerning my Knighting and you having a new Padawan, I was pretty well convinced I had outstayed my welcome even." He'd blame the alcohol for being that loose-lipped, even as he sighed deeply for being an idiot.

_That_ felt like a 'saber going through his chest, Qui-Gon thought, half-absently, as both of his hands wrapped around his padawan's forearms, shaking his head. "No, dear one. That I **cannot** believe. And while I well-know that you would not... I have had the... intention, for some time, of revisiting that conversation from your sixteenth name-day on the day after your Knighting, when it would not be a breach of your trust and my position alike." 

Ben's mouth dropped open in shock, his eyes blown wide open. "What?" The very idea that Qui-Gon would be considering such, had been for at least three years prior to his death, was an impossibility. While the man had been mostly fair, and a good master, the idea there had ever been more than a growing friendship to replace their training relationship boggled Ben's brain endlessly. "I'm sorry, but I can't be hearing you correctly. Or perhaps this isn't my actual history and this is one of those side-stream universes that were theorized in metascience class."

Qui-Gon shook his head slightly, watching his padawan's complete shock with mingled dismay and concern, and he slipped up onto the couch to reach for him, calmly and intently invading his space. "No, I think you heard me perfectly well. And this," he leaned into the training bond, speaking into his padawan's mind, //tells me that our universes are quite close enough//. "Did I hide it from you so well as _that_ , my dear one?" 

Ben took a shaky breath, as he slowly nodded. "I never suspected." He thought back over his time with Qui-Gon, trying to see it from this side… but no, it made no sense from his memories that Qui-Gon could possibly have either desired or loved him. "We were friends, yes, underneath the training, but I never thought you felt more than a Master's care toward me.

"I thought, honestly, that you had buried your heart with Tahl," he admitted. "As I've quite bitterly wished I had done with you, given that I have little luck in such matters."

Qui-Gon shook his head, even as he gathered Ben into his arms, his hand slipping along the mass of hair at the nape of his neck, making a quiet, soothing noise. "For a while, dear one, I did," he agreed softly. "Losing her, the way that we did... yes. For a while, you were quite right. But all things heal in time, or at least scar over, and she would be angry with me for wasting the life I have left in that way. 

"And I have felt far more than just 'a Master's care' for you for a very long time, my stubborn one." 

Ben pushed into that hand along his neck a little too eagerly, before he could catch himself. For a long moment, he debated what to do, even as his body was singing with ideas. "I had to be stubborn, to cope with you, my beloved master," he said softly, before leaving the next step entirely in Qui-Gon's hands. It could be awkward to act on desire, given the situation… and Ben would not tamper with his younger self's potential happiness in this.

Qui-Gon made a softly amused noise, holding this man that was half-stranger and so known all at once in close against his body. "I suppose that is true," he agreed, "but you certainly have." 

That shift, the eager move into his hand... Qui-Gon had had no interest in taking a lover after Tahl's death, not until his padawan had become someone he saw as more than a youth in his care, and he would not cross that boundary. This man, though, was no youth, and... 

Ben caught the small signs of his master's desire, in the dilation of his eyes, the slight change in breathing… he might have missed them all if it hadn't been for his last lover's inability to truly say what he wanted. 

"Part of me thinks I should tell you to leave, now, and consider a discussion with your padawan to help him better understand his place in your life," Ben said with a low, throaty voice. "A larger part of me wants to invite you to share my bed, at least this once, for entirely selfish reasons."

"You have always been entirely too self-sacrificing, dear one," Qui-Gon told him, his fingers running gently along Ben's nape, "and after everything you have suffered, I think you are entitled to a little selfishness, at least this once. 

"As to my padawan, yes, he and I will have that talk. And before long, I promise you that." 

"Good." That said, and Ben deciding in the favor of that selfish urge, he leaned in and claimed a kiss with skill and intent both.

Qui-Gon made a half-startled, very pleased noise into that kiss, his hand tightening in Ben's hair for a long minute before he said into his mind, still kissing him, //About that bed, dear one?// 

//Most assuredly, Qui-Gon,// Ben said, managing to get them headed that way without breaking the kiss.

+++

Ben came alert again to the feeling of fingers tracing… and yes, the scar that had absolutely worried Cody to no end when he took the wound. A MagnaGuard had shoved its electro-staff right past his guard, because he'd been busy dealing with its two partners.

"Couldn't always get to bacta very quickly," he said idly. "It looks worse than it was. Electrical burn, with an impact behind which bruised the organs under the skin."

"If that's your definition of 'looks worse than it was', dear one," Qui-Gon said, his fingers running along the scar again, "I think it leaves something to be desired." 

There were so _many_ scars on Ben's body, and the pattern of some of them... Two of them, one high on a shoulder and up the opposite calf, were somehow almost delicate, traceries of half-fractal, half blood-vessel patterns, disturbed him more than the obvious 'saber scars... 

Ben shook his head. "I watched my padawan lose his arm, and it take entirely too long to get him to a healer. The few wounds I have taken are nothing compared to that, or to the many wounds of my men." Anakin had controlled his pain well, when he came around, but Ben had worried for him the entire time… and not been allowed to show it.

Qui-Gon hissed quietly at the thought of that kind of maiming, especially of someone so young as his grand-padawan must have been... but that 'few wounds'... "You are only one man, Ben... and these are not 'nothing'. But I will concede they are not so major as a lost limb... or a lost life, as your grief tells me you mean of your men." 

"I do." Ben rolled to comfortably look at his master, his lover of the moment, and smiled so softly. "Cody said I cared too hard for men made to die, shortly after he was assigned to me. I told him no one deserved that fate, and I would do my damnedest to keep as many of them alive and safe as I could.

"I hated casualty reports. I hated hearing the Litany after a battle, with all the new names called out. And yet… I can probably name every single trooper that served directly with me that I did not save, and some more out of other units, even." He closed his eyes as the pain of losing them all over again hit. "In the end, I wouldn't have been able to save any of them; I just kept them alive to be turned into more literal slaves of a power-mad Sith Lord, even my… even my commander."

Qui-Gon stroked his hand along Ben's cheek, light and gentle, as he nodded slowly at that first. No, no man was made to die, none deserved that fate, and he washed his approval along the link between them. As Ben's words continued, his pain pouring through their skin contact and the bond between them, Qui-Gon wrapped him closer, holding his beloved student closer. 

The stammer on that last, the wrench of pain... not just his commander, this Cody, but a lover and brother as well. "...oh, my dear one," Qui-Gon said softly, "I am so, so sorry." 

Ben pushed into Qui-Gon then, burying his face against the broad chest, and let himself experience the grief that had been there ever since the first shot against him. Cody, his brother and commander and so dear to him. Cody, who would make him sleep or eat. Cody that hadn't minded being ensnared in Obi-Wan's arms whenever and wherever they had a chance to sleep.

And Ben was choosing not to even let the man exist. The tears poured out, hot and accompanied by shaking little sobs.

Qui-Gon murmured softly to him, no real words, nothing Ben would be expected to hear or respond to, wrapping his grieving, agonized padawan close in against his chest and rocking him gently. Impressions of the man Ben was grieving flashed into his mind, amber eyes kind and stubborn by turns, a livid scar along his eye, up over his temple. Moments of close companionship, of sharing grief and meals and rest, of violent battles with the man at his side working in almost perfect concert with him... and all of that agonizing grief, both over the loss/betrayal and over the choice he was making now. He just murmured to him, low and soft, and tried to keep a gentle sympathy on the link between them. 

Slowly, it wore its way down, and Ben was at peace again, a heavy one laden with sadness, but one he could work in. "Thank you… I did need that," he admitted. He nuzzled the large man gently. "Cody is the latest in a chain of loss that began with not even knowing if you… well. Siri was killed in the first month of the war. Satine… more recently, with entirely too much honesty between us." He had come to terms with Siri's death, forced himself to grieve for Satine, but Cody had been too fresh.

Qui-Gon hummed softly, low in his throat, and nodded. He'd known how badly his padawan needed to grieve, and known it would take pushing. But he hadn't known the other losses. Siri, Adi's padawan? The one that was every bit as close to Obi-Wan as Tahl had been to him? And Satine, as well? "Too many losses, dear one. Far too many... and I am glad to have been here to help you." 

Ben placed a kiss along Qui-Gon's throat. "I will make the best of what I can, now." He gave a faint smile. "Anakin will be a grand distraction. Between his questions and tearing apart anything he can to rebuild it…"

"You have always done well at making the best of things, dear one," Qui-Gon told him, leaning his head back to give him his throat. "And a new padawan with many questions does sound like an excellent distraction from the dark thoughts." 

Ben cuddled in close and began petting along Qui-Gon's chest. "I should let you get back to your rooms, and start preparing for my journey," he said softly. 

"Mmm. Somehow, I do not take that particularly seriously, dear one," Qui-Gon told him, shifting his weight into that touch. 

"Good." Ben started giving more attention to driving Qui-Gon up the wall with every sensual trick he had learned… which was an extensive arsenal for all that he was a Jedi.

+++

Having only just been on this planet, Ben thought he should be used to the heat and blowing sand.

But he wasn't. 

He was dressed much as any bounty hunter might be, complete with a mask to filter the sand from his mouth and nose. Mos Espa was still a squabbling sprawl of misery to his senses, and he dreaded going into it. However, there was a beacon, and he could follow it so that he could do what was needed.

He'd learned, some, of what a slave went through. He felt, much as Anakin had, that eradicating slavery would be a fitting occupation for Jedi, now that he had been through that harrowing event. But for now, he had to end the Sith plan. Later, he and his padawan would do what they could for the slaves of the Galaxy.

That beacon guided him ever on, until he was outside a junk shop, a piping high voice moving over the Huttese language fluently, answered by a rougher male one. Ben stepped in, his eyes seeking Anakin first, his heart melting to see the boy even smaller than his memories showed him.

Anakin's head turned, feeling something, but Watto was giving him instructions again and he made himself refocus on him. Whoever had just come in, it wasn't worth getting cuffed or kicked for. But he'd go look, soon. 

Ben had to turn his attention to the junk dealer then, his eyes taking in the various signs of a Toydarian that lived just one step ahead of pissing off more powerful beings. He strode over, and the other being paid attention to the potential customer.

"You are Watto?" Ben asked.

Anakin blinked at the stranger that had come in and come into view -- it wasn't really all that often that someone speaking Basic came to this shop -- before he moved to work on sorting the components Watto had just bought. 

"I am," Watto agreed, looking at the human -- or close to it, anyway -- narrowly. He didn't recognize the garb, or the voice, so who was this? "You look for something? I probably have it, yes. What you want?" 

"I was told by one of Gardulla's people that you had acquired her slaves, some time back, a woman and a boy." Mind tricks wouldn't work, but using the Force to build a sense of foreboding wasn't quite a mind trick. He did so, to make things possibly turn in his favor. "I've come to offer you fair compensation for their release, ahead of interested parties that are less, shall we say, understanding?"

Anakin went still for a moment, two, feeling something dangerous in the air around the man and worrying over those words. Watto wasn't so bad, really, and he didn't bother Mom at all. A stranger, and a man at that... what did he want with them? There was no-one else in the galaxy that cared about Mom or him, so why -- 

\-- and it really did feel dangerous. He didn't like that, and he didn't like that Watto was holding so still, either. 

Watto felt his trunk tighten, and he fluttered higher, looking narrowly at the stranger. Not terribly big for a human, and he had no interest in losing little Ani or Shmi's clever hands. "She lost them fairly!" he protested, "and they are good workers, hard to replace. What others? She lost them years ago!" 

"There is a rising malevolence in the Galaxy, a new power in play," Ben said, leaning back with arrogant power in his body. He then risked touching Anakin's mind, using the fractured bond. //Be at peace, young one. I seek to free you, not make your lives worse. But there is danger, because you can hear me, and there are those who would use that and you in worse ways than you can imagine currently.// "They seek the pair, for reasons I'd prefer not to get involved with. I merely enjoy frustrating their desires, and got away just ahead of their bounty hunters arriving at Gardulla's."

Anakin made a soft, uneasy noise as the words in Basic -- still a long way from his best language -- were overlapped by a voice that seemed to speak in his mind, not his ears. It was still the stranger's, but how could he hear it in his mind? He could feel truth in it, like he heard from his Mom and almost never from anyone else, and that let him go back to his work. He kept his ears out, though, needing to hear this. 

Watto watched the stranger narrowly, not certain he believed that... but the city felt dangerous, and hunters would do that. "What happens to me, then, when they come and I do not have what they want?!" 

"I had already planned to handle that, as compensation to you for the pair," Ben told him easily. "I am a good person, with a sense of honor. They? Are not. So I will make certain they follow a trail away from you and from the pair… if you will work with me on this. I'm prepared to pay…" and he named an amount that was well below what he had available, but at the base end of what he'd researched humans sold for out here.

Watto snorted at the offer. "Pah! Trouble for me and loss of my slaves, and you offer what I would not even take for one of them! Try again!" he replied, before naming a figure of his own. 

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Living for you, but I can see a point of this." And he named his own, between the pair, settling in to barter, much as it galled his soul.

Anakin listened intently, watching the bargaining... and was more than a little stunned at the final price agreed to. Why would anyone -- even someone that could talk in his head -- pay that much for his mom and him? 

He didn't believe it, and watched in complete shock as the stranger began laying currency out on the counter. 

//This is all to get you both free, and the codes to your chips, little one. I will explain more later.// Ben sent a warm wave of reassurance to the boy. //I will not own anyone. I am a Jedi.// 

Watto grumbled as the deal was done, but he was good to his word, and provided the transmitters for both slaves, washing his hands of them. He would be able to acquire more skillful, less hungry workers for what he'd just gained.

It didn't matter that he actually liked the pair; sentiment got people dead.

"I expect them out of my quarters for them by sundown, ehh! I might get lucky and find a new one already!"

"As you will," Ben said, making certain all was in order and holding a hand out toward the boy. "Come with me, youngling."

Anakin left what he was doing and moved towards the stranger, looking sideways at Watto for a moment. Watto had taken care of them, and this was a stranger -- but now that they weren't his, he wanted nothing to do with them, of course. That was just the way things were, and he sighed, looking up at their new master. He wanted to believe the voice in his mind that said he was going to free them, but he wasn't sure of it. 

And the idea that he was a _Jedi_? That was too awesome to be believed. Anakin had had dreams about being a Jedi since he was little, but he'd never thought it would really happen. 

"Can you lead me to your mother, Anakin?" Ben asked, his voice gentle and caring. "I don't really know your city well, and we'll need to get both of you to my ship, where we can talk about your future. And get those chips out of you." 

He put his hand down in offer of contact… if Anakin wished it. If not, he would not be hurt, and he made certain that was foremost in his mind.

Force, but what did he know of children this young? Could he do what was needed? What if the woman and child chose to be free? Where could he take them, to let them start a life where Palpatine might not find them?

Anakin jumped, staring up at the man, even as he reached for his hand. "How did you know my name?!" he asked, shocked. Of course he could lead him to Mom, and the idea of getting the chips out was wonderful, he'd started trying to figure that out a little while ago, but he just didn't know enough yet -- but how had he known his name?! Anakin was pretty sure that Gardulla had never known it... 

"I'm a Jedi, and know a lot of things," Ben said with a smile, having opened the mask to show his full face. "You can call me 'Ben', Ben Kenobi," he added, keeping his grip on the hand light and giving Anakin full control over where they went now. "I am sorry I had to go through all that back there, but it seemed the easiest way to get you free."

"Ben," Anakin said, testing out the sound of it. He liked the look of that smile, and his eyes were... kind. That dangerous feeling wasn't in the air anymore, either. He tugged very lightly at Ben's hand, heading towards the slave quarters of the city and his mother's home. Why had Ben apologized, though? No one apologized to a slave for anything... but maybe he really was a Jedi. 

"It's okay. You said... there are people that would be looking for me, because I could hear you? Why **could** I hear you?" 

"Because, Anakin, you have the potential to be a Jedi as well. And I may have stretched the truth a bit. People will be looking for you, someday, because of that ability. I had to be certain you could be freed, and I am telling you the truth now," Ben told him. "So that you know what you may face. I want to teach you while keeping you and your mother safe. If, however, you and she choose differently, I will try very hard to find a planet where the Jedi enemies will not find either of you to start over on."

Anakin made a quiet, startled noise at that. _He_ could be a Jedi? Really? "I **really** could? I've dreamed about being a Jedi, but... they're just stories, out here." But then again, so was someone, a stranger, buying you and freeing you. That only happened in stories, and this was his real life. Somehow, a Jedi being on Tatooine and freeing them was really happening to him. "It's not much farther," he said, patting at the thumb under his fingers. 

"Thank you for the reassurance. I admit I am not as good at judging distance under the brightness of twin suns," Ben told him. "And yes, my young friend, you can be a Jedi if you choose." He only hoped he was up to teaching everything, from the ground up, all over again, possibly without any other knights or masters to share the burden.

Ben's head moved toward what had to be their dwelling, as he realized there was another, much fainter, ripple in the Force ahead. He silently cursed his Master, from his line, for not mentioning that. Or maybe Qui-Gon hadn't noticed, in his excitement over the potential Chosen One. Well, an adult Force User could still learn, and that would give him more to keep him distracted from what had been.

"I heard other planets only have one sun," Anakin said, "that must be strange. And there are planets with only one moon, too? ...what's wrong?" He'd felt a tension, something different, in Ben as they got closer to the house, and he didn't know what it was. 

Ben crouched down, so he was on eye level with Anakin. "Your mother has a way of knowing things, like you do?" he asked, to confirm what he was feeling. "I think she may have the Force, the same power as a Jedi uses… and I did not know that before. It means, more than ever, I must try very hard to keep you safe from the enemies of the Jedi."

Anakin nodded slowly, considering. Mom always did know when trouble was coming, or when there was a storm... which meant _Mom_ could be in danger?! His jaw set, his chin coming up. No one was hurting his Mom, ever. "She does know," he agreed quietly. 

"Well, if she will let me, I'll teach her what I can of the Force, while I teach you." It felt awkward and was another thing snapping him away from his upbringing… but the Order failed and died in his line. He wasn't allowing that to happen. He stood, letting Anakin keep his hand, and walked confidently toward the home.

+++

Shmi Skywalker could feel something in the air, but she didn't know quite what it was. When Anakin led the man in nondescript clothing, much like a bounty hunter's, inside, she was immediately worried, but Ben let go of her son's hand and then turned them out and open to her.

"Lady Skywalker, I apologize for the suddenness of this, but I am here to help you and your son find a better future. My name is Ben Kenobi, and I am a Jedi."

Anakin trotted towards Mom, stretching his hand up to rest one behind her back, trying to be as tall and reassuring as he could. "I think it's okay, Mom," he told her, watching as Ben put his hands up and out. That was good body language, showing he wasn't hiding anything... "I really do."

"I am hardly a lady, Mister Kenobi," Shmi Skywalker said, watching the new arrival warily even as she spread her hand on her son's back gently, "and I wonder at your appearance here, and more, what you mean to do about our future." 

Ben moved to the table, pulling out the transmitters. "First, I am deactivating both of those chips. I wanted to do it right away, but I thought it might be more believable if you saw me do it." He set them where both could easily see which buttons he pushed, and did just that. "Second, milady, I wish you both to come to my ship, where we can discuss the options you now have further, and my med-droid can find the actual chips to remove them.

"The Toydarian did say I needed to move you out quickly, and I can't see you choosing Tatooine as the place to live, even if neither of you wish to take up any other offer I make."

Anakin watched intently as Ben tapped at the transmitters, and when he moved away slightly, Anakin snatched one off the table with his free hand. He wanted to be able to take it apart, to figure out how they worked and how to deactivate them all. A med-droid, a real med-droid? That would be awesome to see, and to try to figure out. One of the memory banks he was working on to build Threepio was a med-droid's, but only one, and besides, that wasn't programming, just memory. 

Shmi wanted to sit down -- really, only her hand on Anakin's back was keeping her upright -- as Kenobi deactivated the implant that had kept her from running, kept her from trying to escape, kept her bound to others' will all these years. But she would not show weakness in front of a complete stranger. She had to swallow once, looking for words, knowing that Anakin wanted to go, to see the starship and a fully functioning advanced droid like that. "Of course Watto would want us to leave quickly, and you _cannot_ wish them removed any more than I do. We will come with you. 

"Ani, go gather up what you've bought." 

"What I've -- but Mom, what about Threepio?" 

"Threepio may come," Ben said quickly. "As I believe you have built him out of discarded parts?" he added, looking at Anakin, and mildly apologetic for being forward with his knowledge. "Milady, point me at what you wish gathered up while your son works, and I would gladly work for you," he added, conveying all of his sincerity. If he could preserve her, it was one sin against his dear brother atoned for.

Anakin nodded, "I did, but... he doesn't really walk very well yet, and he's too heavy for me to carry..." 

"I will see to moving him, Anakin. Just get everything together that belongs to you," Obi-Wan told him. He could hire an eopi, but that would take away from the fund he had for them to start fresh, if they chose a path away from him.

Force, but he hoped they did not.

"Over there, carisaks," Shmi said, pointing and making up her mind on how to handle this very odd man who truly seemed to consider them important.

It took only a short while to get things corralled and then Ben rigged a harness that let him carry the droid… as floating him along would be patently ridiculous, extra, and too noticeable. The droid weighed less than a trooper in full gear at least. He guided them to his ship, stopping as often as his senses told him either Skywalker needed for a rest… which wasn't often.

Anakin trotted along beside his mother, confused by everything that had happened and excited at all of the changes. He didn't feel any different, but he'd never been able to feel the transmitter, either. And he was excited to get to see a real starship up close, even be _on_ one, especially with Mom and even Threepio. He just... wasn't sure what Mom thought, since she was being so quiet. 

Threepio, still shut down, looked really funny on Ben's back. 

The ship was a small corvette, and looked to be a few decades old. Anakin thought it might be Corellian, but it was hard to tell the base design, since it had been modded heavily. Ben got them both aboard, setting Threepio down inside as he casually flicked the Force against the hatch and had it begin sealing up.

"There are only two cabins, aboard, Lady Skywalker, but I left the larger one for you and your son when I set out on my mission," Ben said, beginning to shed some of the outer portions of his clothing, and thus revealing the lightsaber on his hip. "Feel free to use the cargo hold to store things if you do not have enough room in the cabin."

"I cannot even begin to understand any of this," Shmi said, causing Ben to stop and meet her eyes fully.

"It is the Force, milady, that guides me, just as it gave you your son. Yes, I know that. I wish, desperately, to guard Anakin, and yourself, from a future that I have known to be dark and full of death," Ben told her.

That really was a Jedi's laser sword. "That's how you knew how to find us, knew my name... and about Threepio," Anakin said, watching Ben and Mom both. It wasn't a question, not after the other things Ben had said. And the way he'd shut the hatch, without putting a hand anywhere near the release. 

He'd even left the bigger cabin for them? 

Anakin really wasn't sure about any of this... but he did think they could trust this man. He might have bought them, but then he'd done what he said he would and deactivated the transmitters. Now, about getting the implants out? Or maybe they should put things away first? He wasn't sure. 

"Mister Kenobi, this is all very overwhelming. Please let us settle… and then if you would bring the med-droid to the cabin. Anakin may well need vaccinations," Shmi said calmly.

"I will do just that, once I have us in hyperspace," Ben promised. "The cabins are that way, the galley that way, and," he gestured to the open space, "the cargo hold is most of the rest of the ship." He smiled at them both in a kindly fashion, and then went to the cockpit to see to getting them into space.

Shmi closed her eyes; she could feel such sincerity, but this was as overwhelming as discovering herself to be pregnant!

Anakin wanted to see the hyperspace jump! And a real ship's controls! But that was Mom's firm voice, and he could tell she didn't want him away from her. He picked up the one 'sak he'd put down, and headed towards where Ben had pointed. "What's a vac -- vacci -- vaccination, Mom?" 

"Medicines to keep you healthy, so you don't get spacer's plague at our next port," Shmi said, leading the way to the cabin. "We'll carry Threepio in here in a bit, Ani. For now, let us secure our bundles and see where we will be sleeping."

"Okay, Mom. But then can I go up and see the controls?" Anakin asked, trotting beside her. 

"Oh Ani," she said indulgently, before putting a hand lightly on his back.

+++

Settling Skywalker nerves was a lot like trying to calm nervous predators… Ben gave them space and time, once he had seen to removing the chips, vaccinating them both, and giving them nutrient boosters to help them overcome the diet they had known. He turned the galley over to Shmi more so she could control their diet and have food security than for any other reason. 

He let Anakin be in the cockpit whenever the boy wanted, teaching him all that he could about the ship and piloting in general.

"You will be better than I am at this," Ben promised him.

Anakin cocked his head at him, blinking once even as he watched him. "You're very sure of that. I know I can pilot, Watto has had me practicing for the races for a year or so, but... why are you so sure? Because of the future you... saw? How did that happen, anyway?" He was -- slowly -- getting used to the idea that he could ask questions of Ben and not be in trouble for his smart mouth, so he let himself ask when he was curious. Okay, so that was most of the time. Ben didn't, so far, seem to mind at all. Most of the time he even smiled. 

Now, though, there was a frown, but not at Anakin. The sadness that sometimes settled around Ben thickened before he spoke.

"It's almost like I lived a lifetime, Anakin, with you as my friend. And I made a number of mistakes that made some very bad things happen." He forced a smile, but the sadness was still in his eyes. "I won't say I won't make new mistakes, but I know the old ones to avoid now."

Anakin blinked at him, confused at the idea of being friends with an adult... but it didn't sound bad, either. And he didn't like that Ben seemed so sad, so he slid down out of the copilot's seat and moved over to lean against the man's leg, reaching up for his hands. "Mom says everyone makes mistakes. It's what you do about them that matters." 

"Your mother is a wise woman, I am learning." Ben placed his hand in the small ones of this child, this hope for a better future. He would go slow, not burden Anakin with too much knowledge at once, but train him to be strong and confident.

"She's the best," Anakin agreed, and squeezed Ben's hand gently between his, still leaning against his leg. "What's your mom like?" 

Ben considered that question. He'd met his parents a handful of times, but was one of many children that had come to the Temple before he was even a year old. "I suppose she's nice. I didn't really know her well, Anakin, as I was raised in the Temple.

"Many Force-sensitive children go directly to the Temple at their family's request. I was one of those, and was only six months old. I grew up with a Youngling clan, some of whom remained my dearest friends."

Anakin blinked at that, trying to understand it, and after a few seconds he shook his head. The idea of parents _willingly_ giving up their children, when it wasn't just to survive (or was it?)... he squeezed Ben's hand again, pushing closer. "They just... gave you up? Why? 

"I mean, it's good you had friends, but... that sounds pretty terrible." 

"It was the way of things, in the Republic." Ben ran a hand over Anakin's hair, gentle and brushing it back from his eyes. "Force sensitive children are prone to being bullied and misunderstood outside of the Order. Perhaps, a child born to a family with a strong Force tradition in it would be less at risk, but a bullied child is potentially at risk for striking out, once they understand the power they have."

Ben had learned that lesson. Even inside the Temple, he'd been bullied and pushed hard by others. And, for a long time, he had worried that he **had** killed Bruck, that it hadn't been an accident, because of that shared past.

Anakin pushed his head up into that touch, not letting go of Ben's hand as he considered that new information. If it was to keep the kids safe, that wasn't so terrible. That was... maybe even good? But it took them away from their moms, their families, and he still wasn't sure he thought that that was okay. "Oh. ...people are just kind of terrible, aren't they? Mostly."

"People are people," Ben said. "Individuals can be good, bad, or in-between. It's just that a lot of the in-betweens will take the easy course, and that leads to problems, if the bads are the ones making decisions." He kept stroking the boy's hair, finding it to be quite peaceful. "A Jedi's responsibility is to make certain the bad ones are exposed for what they are, and removed from power."

Anakin hummed to himself, then let go of Ben's hand to start climbing up into his lap, alert to any sign that he shouldn't, even the subtle whispers that told him what to do when he was piloting close to the surface... it worked on people, too. He wanted to think about that for a while, and he liked the way Ben's hand was petting his hair. 

Ben shifted in the chair, making it more comfortable for the boy to sit against him, free hand settling along his back, but continuing to pet the pale hair that would begin darkening soon. He closed his eyes, letting the peace of this situation soothe the jagged, frayed bond in his head, the one that screamed at him of his failures.

Just maybe, they would win this time, and Anakin would be happy.

"What's hurting you?" Anakin asked, pushing close, Ben's response to his question less important than what he could feel like an ache in his own chest. "Can I help?" 

"You are helping, Anakin." Ben smiled at him softly as he opened his eyes to see those concerned blue eyes looking up at him. "There's a bond between me and someone I failed, that is rough-edged and fiery in the back of my mind. Learning to live with it is one thing, but more… learning how to atone for it helps soothe it to less of a pain."

Anakin frowned a little, not understanding how he was helping, but... he could tell that Ben meant it. He nodded, and relaxed, settling down against his chest again. "That sounds like it hurts a lot. I wish you weren't hurting; you've been so good to us." 

Ben sighed softly. "Anakin… don't ever hesitate to tell me if you think I am doing something wrong, in regards to you or your mother. I don't want to cause any trouble for you. If it is something I am teaching you, we may have to discuss it at length, because some lessons are difficult. But I will listen. You have my word on that."

Anakin didn't look up this time. He knew his eyes were too big, his face too shocked, but that idea was more confusing than almost anything Ben had said to him. No one but Mom had ever cared at all about what _he_ thought. And how was he supposed to know what 'wrong' was, when it wasn't masters setting off the implant bombs because they could, or feeding someone to a rancor or the sarlaac out in the Dune Sea, or the way some of the girls cried after being alone with a master? Some of the other boys, too.

Ben was... kind, and gentle, and he'd freed them when he could have just stayed in the Republic being a Jedi... 

"Oh, Ani," Ben said softly, feeling a deep confusion there. He shifted to hug the child gently, the words 'the closest thing I have to a father' echoing in his ears, and he opened his mind a little more to Anakin. //I may not know how to teach you to be free, little one, but I will try.//

Anakin smiled at hearing the nickname and stayed cuddled close, enjoying the warmth of the hug. Then there was a whisper in his mind again, and he tried to answer. //...being free is confusing. I don't know what to expect. Mom remembers, I think, but I don't.// 

//Just listen to her, and ask questions as you need to. Also, you are doing this very well, Anakin,// Ben praised, at having the answer in his mind, instead of out loud.

Anakin looked up at him and beamed at the praise, delighted, and answered, //Okay. I can do that.// 

+++

Ben watched as Anakin worked on Threepio; their last stop had allowed Ben to acquire some parts for the boy to use. He was working on modifying one of the ship's sensor systems, fully expecting Anakin to come over any time. He was aware of Shmi watching them, as she often did. He was always polite to her, and tried hard to be open to suggestions from her, if she would but make them.

Shmi stayed where she was, watching both her son's delighted work on the droid he had started building for her sake and now was working on mostly for Threepio himself, and the man that had freed them at his work, thinking. She had still not entirely made a decision about what she thought of him, of what he had done, but that did not mean she was not grateful. 

His explanations had a ring of truth to them that she had learned to trust -- more, she had learned over her years on Tatooine to believe its absence in most cases -- but she thought there was something more. Anakin had told her about the sense of another life Ben had, which almost explained more... Yet, if he was a Jedi, why were they not headed back towards the Core? She moved closer to him, her head tilting slightly as she turned her body and mouth away from her son. "A moment?" 

"Of course, milady." Ben put the tools in their proper place and moved to walk away with her, letting her lead. He tried not to delve at her Force signature, giving her full privacy, as he walked with her. "What can I do to be of service?"

"I am curious," Shmi admitted, "about why we are remaining around the Rim, rather than heading back towards your... Temple?" 

Ben ran a hand over his beard, considering how honest to be on that answer. "Because I am avoiding someone, and avoiding giving the Sith a chance to be aware of Anakin," he told her. "I wish him to be trained, free of that potential corruption, without risking losing him to a plot to take him from us, Lady Skywalker."

"What _is_ a 'Sith'?" Shmi asked, her head cocking to the side. 

"A Sith is an ancient enemy of the Jedi, and of freedom, in all forms. They use the Dark side of the Force for power and control, without care to those they make suffer," Ben told her. "In the … vision that drove me to find you and Anakin, they corrupted him, and used him to destroy the Jedi. I know that Anakin is destined to be the greatest Force User ever… and prefer it to be in the Light."

Shmi tensed at the idea of her son (her generous, loyal, honest, open-hearted son) being corrupted, becoming someone that wanted power over others, that could cause suffering to others and not care. She wanted to spin around and go find him, gather him up in her arms and protect him from any of it, all of it -- 

"How could someone do that to him, if he was among the Jedi?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at Kenobi, confused and unhappy. 

Ben's face flushed, and his eyes closed in pain. "Because I failed to see the problem until it was far, far too late, milady. I failed to keep my padawan, my brother, safe. I failed the mandate my master had given me, to train him properly." He opened his eyes to meet hers. "Milady, in that life, Anakin was very much the center of my life, but the Sith was close, too close… and his words carried more weight in the end, when someone Anakin loved was placed in danger."

"Your 'master'?" Shmi asked, startled, even as she considered that answer. His pain had been so very obvious, but not feigned, if she had any sense of him at all. He was grieving the loss of her son, his student, to such vileness... and so determined not to allow it to happen again. "Who was this person, this Sith? I will not have them near my son this time.

"To change _my_ Ani into something like that..." her lips pulled tight over her teeth for a long moment, anger flaring up in her. 

Ben nodded at that protectiveness. "Currently, the man is a senator from the Chommell Sector, out of Naboo. In the future I know, he ascends to Chancellor… and was so grateful to the boy that saved his planet. I could not prevent the contact between them easily, even as it did create strife between us.

"The Jedi Council is working to undo him, but I have taken on the task of fixing my mistakes, where Anakin was concerned." He held his hands out to her, an apology in his face and body language. "One of many mistakes, milady, was in not protecting you. I will not fail him, or you, in this again."

Shmi took his hands in hers, hooking her fingers behind his and holding them with her thumbs, looking at his face. "I am grateful," she told him softly, "that you decided to face your mistakes, not run from them as so many do. Well. Between you and I, we will keep such men far from our Ani." 

"Thank you, milady." Ben gave her a small smile. "He is an astounding boy, and now I see where he gets much of his compassion from."

Shmi shook her head slightly, one corner of her mouth curving up. "Ani is Ani. He has always been that way. When we lived in Gardulla's complex, with others, I would find my toddler son trying to soothe Elon'ovi's infant daughter..." 

"Perhaps, away from the Jedi, with me far more aware of how different from me he is, I can help him harness that, and use it for the better of the Galaxy." He returned that smile, then inclined his head to her. "With you to guide me, if you see that I am misstepping with regards to the way he sees the world?" he invited.

Shmi nodded slowly, agreeing. "...you've always been free, haven't you? You walk like a freeborn, even when you're trying to be circumspect." 

"Yes, milady. I grew up in the Temple. I have made my own choices within the Order, since I was a child." Ben shook his head. "Anakin and I argued over my freedom once or twice, because I lived my life along the choices offered to me… but so did he. Whereas I saw mine as free, he saw his as coerced on occasion."

Shmi made a thoughtful noise, studying his face, trying to see where another version of her son, a different boy but one who had had her Ani's experiences, would have clashed with this man, who was so careful with him. "I don't think I know anywhere near enough about the Jedi to understand that," she finally decided, "but when all you have ever known is that any choice you make can be overruled, often violently, at another's whim... you learn to hide even making them." 

Ben nodded, sadly, at that. "I think I can understand that better now than I did before." He drew in a deep breath. "The rapport I hope to have with him this time… it sits differently already, because he is younger. I hope, milady, you will encourage him to make choices and be open. I will not allow harm to come to him that I can prevent, and I wish to keep from being the one that causes him any hurt in his life."

"I believe you," Shmi told him softly and squeezed his hands gently in hers. "I will do what I can. I, too, wish to see my son thrive. And, Mister Kenobi, my name is Shmi." 

"Only if you call me 'Ben', milady," he said, his charm coming through in the simple words.

Shmi studied him for another moment, then nodded. "All right, Ben. I shall." 

+++

Qui-Gon Jinn had spent the rest of his time in the Temple digging for years-old records, missing Tahl's gift for this kind of search, and visiting Dex's newly-opened diner in the upper midlevels to ask him about the planet included nowhere in the Archives. Dex had been amused, and thought that it lay somewhere on the far edge of the Trilon sector... which was, Qui-Gon finally had to admit to himself, as good a clue as he was going to find. Narec's Master, an elder Duros, had himself passed into the Force not long ago, so there was no help coming from that angle. 

It had taken some negotiation with Mace to gain one of the Temple's ships for this kind of a voyage, but Qui-Gon was determined to fulfill this part of Ben Kenobi's plan, and Mace had eventually given in. With things mostly arranged, he went to go and collect his padawan. 

"What kind of mission are we off to now, Master, so I may best anticipate how I will be shot at?" Obi-Wan asked him impudently. He knew that there were many things going on that he wasn't fully aware of, as many senior Masters were working on tasks here and abroad with a common purpose showing in their efforts.

Qui-Gon laughed, amused, and reached to lay his hand on his padawan's shoulder. "We can likely expect a great deal of trouble, yes," he agreed. "We're going to search for a Knight who went missing on an exploration out into the far Rim sectors and possibly Uncharted space. I have a single lead on a possible planet, but we're going to be doing a great deal of Seeking, I'm afraid." 

"Well, that's at least different from our usual fare," Obi-Wan told him, smiling as he said it. "I'll make sure I have plenty of tea." He said the last teasingly, as some of his brews offended Qui-Gon's sense of smell.

Qui-Gon made a mildly appalled face, but there would be room enough in the ship for his padawan's tea and his nose to exist with some separation. "We may be gone a good long time," he agreed, "so I suppose you should bring your pharmacopeia along. I put in a request to our chief of supplies about the ship, but we'll look it over a couple of times before we leave, mm?" 

It wasn't often that he and his padawan left the Temple with much more than the clothes on their backs and enough credits to pay for a few meals, but this was hardly a normal mission. Several long hyperspace jaunts required a little more forethought and definitely more supplies. One couldn't exactly search the Force while in a hibernation trance, after all. 

"I appreciate your forbearance, and will try to limit myself to the more appealingly scented teas," Obi-Wan told him, eyes twinkling. A long journey away from the Temple seemed appealing… and maybe then his Master would tell him what had the Council so busy.

Getting ready to leave didn't take them long, and fairly soon Obi-Wan was piloting them away from Coruscant, mindful of the initial coordinates his master had given him. He was terribly curious, and once they were in hyperspace, he sought answers.

"What, or whom, are we searching for, Master?"

"Knight Ky Narec," Qui-Gon answered, tapping the holo display to bring his image up "He's long overdue back, and something of a... sequence of visions, not mine, say that he needs to be found. Him... and the apprentice he may already or soon will have." 

"Well, that's an interesting Vision. I am curious as to how this all came about, Master. Does it pertain to so many masters being active in the archives of late?" Obi-Wan asked, committing the image to memory.

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed, "it does. Very much so, dear one. I was either fortunate or unfortunate enough to be present in the Council Chamber when Master Windu nearly collapsed at the recounting of one possible future -- one that must not occur -- and a series of profoundly unpleasant other revelations. The Council has chosen not to permit the details to be shared out widely, my padawan, but to set tasks as needed. 

"However, I will tell you this, and I don't care what the Council thinks of my sharing it. The Sith have survived, and have already begun maneuvering against us and the Republic once more." 

"What?!" That was very difficult to believe, as all the histories stated the Sith had died out. There were other cults of the Dark Force, but not that one. "And finding this Jedi, and possibly an apprentice... has bearing on that? As I find it hard to believe, as good a team as we make, they'd pull us away from investigating those lines!"

Qui-Gon made a quietly satisfied noise and waited for his padawan to settle down out of his shock. "We will have things to do against them soon enough, dear one. But first, there is this one of our own, and his padawan, to save and bring home.

"We do make an excellent team, don't we. One of these days, I may even admit to Master Yoda that he was right." 

Obi-Wan stared at his master, then reached out to check for fever, an impish light in his eyes. "Are you well, Master?"

"Quite well," Qui-Gon replied with a darkly amused snort, leaning into his brat of a padawan's hand slightly. Had he truly done so badly at showing his student and friend that despite the troubles that dogged them, he was grateful to have him in his life? Ben's shocked face swam before his eyes and he knew that yes, in fact, he had. Well, that was one of those things he meant to fix on this trip, and there was no time like the present moment to begin. 

Obi-Wan smiled at him for that lean, moving his hand to smooth an errant strand of hair back. "I did bring more mechanical texts with me, so that perhaps I can get a better result the next time I take the proficiency exam," he said, drawing his hand back. "Hopefully this ship doesn't require me putting it to use."

He would focus on the academics he rarely had time for, use the time in good measure. That way he wouldn't be too much of a nuisance to his master.

"Industrious of you," Qui-Gon told him, soft and pleased with him at the forethought, "and while I will hope it does not, you do seem to have this way of picking up a skill more rapidly in a crisis...." It was something he had often noticed in his young friend, and a good trait to have. 

"And perhaps, given the lack of space for your normal flourishes with your lightsaber, you'll work on Soresu with me instead?" Obi-Wan teased him, as Ataru was far too mighty in its maneuvers for the limited space available to them.

Qui-Gon made a mildly exasperated face, but then recalled Ben's words about his death, and sighed. "It would probably be wise," he agreed, "if constraining." 

"It will help hyperspace go by quicker," Obi-Wan cajoled. "And allow me to practice enough that possibly I can finally win the next time Kit invites me to spar. He's sneaky."

"I agreed, didn't I, dear one?" Qui-Gon asked, "Though I think you would need a better opponent than I if _that_ is your goal, my padawan. Kit gives me trouble regularly." 

Obi-Wan grinned. "Yes, but if I am honing your skill, it makes me more aware of my faults, so that possibly I can correct them." He settled back in his seat, flicking his eyes across the control board. 

Qui-Gon laughed, low and amused, and nodded. "There is much truth there, dear one.... and with Soresu, my own faults will surely give you much to observe." 

"Oh I am certain you'll pick it up swiftly, Master. You're always the best at what you put your mind to," Obi-Wan told him before nodding in satisfaction. "There. I'm certain the heading is good, and the ship seems to be behaving nicely."

"Good," Qui-Gon said, nodding once. At least now that they were in hyperspace the ship could mostly be left to its own devices, and they could enjoy the time together. Without, unlike travelling on a freighter, concern about other people. 

Obi-Wan stood to go get his study materials, keeping his thoughts about free time to himself. He did need to brush up more on mechanics, and was not one for wasting opportunities to better himself. It kept his mind off subjects he had long-since locked away.

Qui-Gon watched him go, wondering at why he was so quick to draw away, then went to settle in the lounge himself. He had a novel he'd been intending to read for several months, and if his padawan was going to study, he would read something light so that he could help if need be. Not that he found that idea terribly likely, not as gifted as his padawan was. 

Said padawan was loading a module into the holotable for the practical part of the course, one that would let him do various virtual repair exercises. He then settled in with the data pad that went with it, trying to focus on the course material. Obi-Wan realized that outside of extended injury recovery, he'd never faced such a long period of inactivity, and the thought was vaguely worrisome.

It didn't take long for Qui-Gon to catch the uneasiness in the air, or to realize that it certainly wasn't the exercises giving his padawan such unease. "What is it, Obi-Wan?" he asked, quiet. 

Obi-Wan glanced over, then flushed. "Sorry, Master. Didn't realize I was broadcasting." He flashed the older man a quick smile. "I just was thinking, outside of you or I being grounded to the Temple because of injury, we've never had this much time with nothing but study or meditation to attend. And yes, I know we're barely underway, but hyperspace tends to be uneventful."

"And now we're going to run into pirates with interdiction capability," Qui-Gon said, smiling amusedly at his padawan, "just from you saying that. Ah, well, it will be interesting.... and I think you are right, dear one." He'd had to pause for a few moments, thinking things over, but they _did_ stay very busy, and didn't tend to single jumps that were this long. 

"You weren't broadcasting as such, I just caught an edge of it." 

Obi-Wan nodded then. "Alright. I don't wish to disturb you. Force knows you could use the rest, Master. Might do wonders for your habit of arguing," he teased.

"Dear one, have you never noticed that my wit gets sharper when I've had enough rest, not dulled?" 

Obi-Wan laughed at that. "Yes, but then perhaps you can make your point before half the Council is counting backwards in their native languages," he replied.

Qui-Gon made an amused noise at that thought, shaking his head slightly. "Well, perhaps. And Obi-Wan, dear one, you are not a disturbance to me." 

"I'm glad of that, Master." Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his lessons, trying not to think, at all, about the kind of disturbance he wouldn't mind being… but those ideas were impossible, and not worth dwelling on.

For a moment, Qui-Gon caught the wistful look in his padawan's eyes, and not for the first time since Ben had opened his eyes, mentally kicked himself. Yes, definitely dealing with that... but not all at once. 

+++

Obi-Wan was smiling, almost brilliantly, as the two of them worked in the confined space of the small cargo hold. Qui-Gon, for all his preferred form, was a challenge to spar against. He loved lightsaber combat like this, when the only stakes were a bit of pride and often laughter for the small mistakes made.

"Not bad, for a giant like yourself," he teased, parrying a blow.

Qui-Gon laughed at the quip, watching his padawan's face almost as much as his blade, and riposted. Sweet saints, but his padawan was becoming a _stunning_ young man. And that smile was incredibly beautiful. "Impudent brat," he told him affectionately, the pleasure of the spar singing through his own veins. He sank into the spar for long moments, the confined movements of Soresu requiring much of his attention, before he saw a momentary opening in his padawan's defense and moved to take advantage of it. 

Obi-Wan could not help but make a triumphant sound, as he worked his blade along Qui-Gon's when his master took the opening, spinning away and coming back with his own lightsaber perfectly on line to make a mark, if this had been serious.

"Very well-done, Master," he said. "Should I let you have a breather now?"

He'd laid a trap for him! Qui-Gon smiled pride at his padawan, pleased and impressed alike as he regained control of his lightsaber and brought it back into line to guard. "Mm. No, dear one, I'm not that winded yet. And as for 'well done', that's much better applied to you. Excellent feint." 

Obi-Wan blushed slightly. "I do try to make certain you awarded me the correct bead, Master," he said, before pushing a quick attack, falling back when Qui-Gon met it adeptly. "Out of curiosity, why did you go for Ataru? You normally do the unexpected, but with your height and strength, it makes the most sense."

Qui-Gon laughed, amused and a little rueful, and followed his padawan's retreat with an attack of his own. "Pure contrariness and to exasperate my Master, Obi-Wan, if you want the truth of it." 

"Well, that certainly fits you nicely," Obi-Wan said. He grinned slyly at the elder man. "A bit like me choosing mine to make up for, shall we say, the holes in your defense?" With that, he stopped giving way to Qui-Gon's blade and pushed inside his defense, stopping short of a proper kill-point.

"Mmm, possibly?" Qui-Gon made a mildly exasperated noise as his padawan bested him again and shook his head. "No doubt I gave you the right bead, my own, when you best me so often.

"I've never spoken much of him, have I?" 

Obi-Wan treasured the small endearments, never questioning the possessiveness in them. It was… comforting to him. "Not really. I've studied his lectures on advanced Force manipulation. His command of how to maneuver items with the Force is astounding. Madame Nu has mentioned that he was elegant, usually while complaining about the degradation of his line since," Obi-Wan said with some amusement.

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes upward, shaking his head. "Jocasta would. Don't listen to her, my padawan, on anything but her own specialty." He resettled his weight, testing his ability to continue and deciding he was fine. "In his fields, my Master has few equals -- of course, were anyone but Yoda to surpass him, he would promptly utterly devote himself to regaining his primacy of place. He has never been able to stand being outdone." 

"And they say it's my generation that's so arrogant," Obi-Wan said with dismay at that. As he said it, though, something clicked into place, and he had to give two scoring points to Qui-Gon off the bat as they re-engaged. "Oh…."

"Anyone that thinks your generation has some kind of corner on arrogance has never met my Master," Qui-Gon said with a shake of his head, even as he continued pressing his momentary advantage against his padawan. The sound of that quiet murmur said that he only had that advantage because Obi-Wan was realizing a few things... and he nodded as they sparred. 

"Yes," he agreed quietly, and made himself say the old nickname, "Xan was very much cut from the same cloth as my Master, in... several ways."

"I am sorry, Master," Obi-Wan said, not able to do anything about it, but extend sympathy. "I don't understand that particular failing very well." He regrouped his feet beneath him, took a stronger defensive stance, and tried to focus on the spar, so that Qui-Gon might not dwell on the past.

"Thank you, dear one. No, nor do I," Qui-Gon agreed, shaking his head even as he responded to his padawan's changed stance and focus. "Tenacity, now, that I have possibly too much of, but that one... I am less prey to. Or at least, I hope I am."

"It has never been your failing in my experience," Obi-Wan agreed. Stubborn self-reliance, bullheaded obstinance? Those were the two traits he saw as his master's weaker points, not that he was going to say it. Instead, he angled his lightsaber just slightly on next contact, pushing Qui-Gon's blade off track to guard his chest.

Qui-Gon smiled, pleased at the reply, and fell back quickly, disengaging only to instigate a new attack in the next moment. Not, perhaps, entirely Soresu, but it did work to disrupt his padawan's strategy. "I admit a certain amount of relief that you never took to Makashi," he said, returning the conversation to forms of combat and why he'd chosen the one he did. 

"It's interesting to watch, but I find it lacking in defense against people who are not using lightsabers," Obi-Wan told him. "And while I did adapt some of your style into my personal form, I have defense issues again with Ataru. This form has always felt more balanced to me, even if it is intended to be more for defense. But then… in order to make its offense work, one must be very observant, and that is a skill I needed to hone anyway."

Qui-Gon wondered at that focus on defense, not for the first time, but his padawan was -- after all their exploits together -- more cautious than he was. "All true, though you are already quite observant, and not only in combat, my padawan."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Self-defense, master, from all the times I got myself captured in our first years together!" He was enjoying the spar so fully, glad that his master was indulging him. "I thought it only best that I stop being that much of a nuisance by paying better attention."

Qui-Gon snorted, amused at the first bit of the commentary, and so glad to see his padawan laughing, smiling so bright and full... but the 'stop being a nuisance' bothered him. A few days ago, he would have thought that it was only Obi-Wan playing, wry and amused, but... after meeting Ben, after hearing and feeling how much his padawan truly had considered himself a burden, it was less entertaining. 

He was torn between the impulse to stop the spar in that very moment and his reluctance to interrupt anything that made his beloved student laugh so openly. "Never that, my dear one, and often my salvation." 

"It is my pleasure to look after you, Master," Obi-Wan said with a glint in his eyes. He meant it, fully, even as he kept the layers of it buried deeply. "And I truly don't mind the occasional rescue myself." He dropped low, suddenly, with a thrust toward Qui-Gon's legs, and kept moving… definitely not Soresu, but not fitting any form all that well.

Obi-Wan started improvising, and Qui-Gon reacted, falling out of formal style into something more his own, even confined by the space. "I am glad to hear it, Obi-Wan," he replied, his own smile coming back to his lips. 

Now it was sheerly for fun, and Obi-Wan gave himself over to it, using the smaller space to his advantage. He kept an eye on his master, another sense in the Force, just in case Qui-Gon was pushing himself too hard. That had become habit when he was barely sixteen, with that awful scientist having captured the man and drained so much of his vitality away. He didn't even truly realize how much he watched.

Qui-Gon found -- again -- that sparring his padawan was a formidable challenge, especially when neither of them were holding to formal rules. He enjoyed it, though, and knew from Ben's words that he must push himself more, demand more of his body and his connection to the Force alike, if he was going to stand against the Sith when they came. The space gave Obi-Wan the advantage, yes, but he was far from out of tricks, It just meant a little more use of walls and ceiling than some would... 

… and eventually his experience paid off, putting Obi-Wan flat on the deck from a missed thrust and perfect riposte that took advantage of his slight overbalance. The younger man flicked his lightsaber off, his face lighting with joy for a good spar.

"I think, Master, today is all yours!"

Qui-Gon shook his head as he flicked his own blade off and clipped it back to his belt, looking down at his padawan's delighted face with a smile. Force bless, but he really was beautiful, especially alight like that, pleased with the world, his skill, and the challenge. He was half sure that the thought was showing on his face... but that wasn't exactly a problem, not given what Ben had said. Better Obi-Wan begin to know than not, far better. He reached down, offering his padawan a hand up. 

Obi-Wan took the hand up, yet… his master's eyes and face had a warmth… more… to it that was startling and took a little more of his breath away. It curled up in the pit of his stomach, nestling there to make Obi-Wan nervous and unsure of himself all in one move. "That, that was, it was…" he stammered, before biting at his lower lip, trying to corral his thoughts. "I really enjoyed that, Master."

"As did I, my friend," Qui-Gon answered, his voice steady as he held on to his padawan in a light grip. "As did I." 

Watching his student half stammer and bite at his lip, Qui-Gon worried that he had either been too obvious or that his padawan's long-held want was still at this point more fantasy than true desire. 

Obi-Wan's cheeks flushed just slightly, ducking his gaze down. He latched onto his training in how to best hide his emotions during a negotiation, pushing the pulse of how he felt toward his master back down. It wasn't as if Qui-Gon was interested! The exercise was just making things seem more intimate than they actually were. "Thank you," he said, not quite pulling away from the grip.

Qui-Gon tipped his head slightly, watching his student draw himself back, and slid his hand from grip on hand to a light wrap around mid-forearm instead. "Of course, dear one."

Obi-Wan looked up into Qui-Gon's eyes, trying to understand why things felt different, why there seemed to be a buzz between them that he hadn't noticed before. Or, more honestly, that he hadn't seen from his master.

"I should probably clean up… unless you wish to do so first?" Obi-Wan asked, too uncertain that what he thought he was reading was just wishful thinking on his part.

"No," Qui-Gon shook his head slightly, keeping his focus on his padawan, and keeping his light, loose hold on his forearm, "you go ahead, dear one." 

He had been steadfastly ignoring, for at least two years now, since Obi-Wan turned a more respectable age, the assortment of things he would like to do to and with his entirely-too-lovely padawan. Allowing himself to consider them, especially with his student flushed and already sweating and still delighted with the world... was heady. 

Obi-Wan made himself pull away, slowly, even managed a couple of steps toward the 'fresher, then paused and looked at Qui-Gon. "Master?" He didn't know what he was asking, leaving it open, a questing drive to learn what the elder man might be thinking.

Qui-Gon followed him at that question, aware that his dear friend and student was nervous and skittish from the shift between them, uncertain of himself and possibly even a little afraid -- that last he would not tolerate, could not allow, not when it was his fault. He stepped into his space, body at an angle to Obi-Wan's that made it easy to slip an arm behind his back and curve that hand around his waist. Obi-Wan's gaze had never left his face, and he smiled slightly. "You've grown up so much, my dear one." 

Those words, the body language, all left Obi-Wan with a surge of hope and a thick sense of confusion. His breathing stuttered, but he was not one to dismiss the facts once they were clear, even on matters of his heart. "Am I grown up enough to reconsider a certain conversation?" he asked, his mouth gone dry, as his eyes searched that leonine face above his own, not yet reaching, as he wanted to, to be able to place his own hand on his master's chest.

Qui-Gon nodded once, slightly, as he watched those responses with an edged hunger he was suddenly struggling to keep in check. "Yes, my own. Assuming you still wish to...?" 

Obi-Wan gave a short laugh at the idea of that. Not wish to? Was he still breathing? "My master, do you think me so fickle as to ever turn from something I feel passion for?" Obi-Wan countered that, his hand rising now to rest on that chest, making a more solid connection between them. "I know that was a bad year for us both, with all the things that happened, but the years since have only added to the depths of love I feel for you."

That laugh was a little too much like Ben's, and Qui-Gon found his free hand cupped gently around his padawan's smooth cheek as he took a breath that pressed his chest up against Obi-Wan's hand. 

"No, dear one. You are never fickle," he answered softly, holding his student in his arms, "and ever committed. I had hoped, those years ago -- for your sake, not mine -- that you would allow yourself a love more your own age, more worth the magnificent Knight you will be. And I did not _ever_ wish to let this particular scandal touch you.... but you have been through more than enough to make your own choices." 

"I have loved others, Master, but none with the intensity I feel for you," Obi-Wan admitted. "The way we mesh with one another in our duties, in combat? They give me joy. But even when I am vexed over your stubborn arguing, I also treasure those moments. Just being part of your life had become all I cared to ask for of you, because I thought… I thought this was completely one-sided on my part," he said softly, moving closer, wanting to feel what it was to be truly held against the elder man.

Qui-Gon pulled him in closer, hand on his cheek sliding behind his nape to cup the back of his neck and the base of his skull, his eyes locking back onto Obi-Wan's. "That may have been the case when you were sixteen, dear one -- but you are not a boy anymore, and I long ago realized both how hollow my life would be without you in it, and how much I have come to _want_ you, along with loving you.

"Shh. yes, I do, my own." 

Obi-Wan couldn't help but push into that hand on his neck, his pupils dilating, mouth opening slightly as it pushed his buttons hard. He then licked his lips, before boldly stretching upward, seeking to place a kiss along Qui-Gon's jaw or throat… or maybe just get kissed directly.

"Oh, my dear one," Qui-Gon murmured as his padawan licked at his lips, and at that stretch he dipped his head, catching Obi-Wan's lips with his. Nothing like kissing Ben, except for something about the taste, but this -- this was his partner and student, his dearest friend and staunchest ally. His Obi-Wan, not a man he had once become. 

That kiss had his eyes closing, before a moan escaped Obi-Wan in the midst of it. He kept the one hand between them, on Qui-Gon's chest, just feeling the muscle and power beneath it, while his other latched on at the hip, to better support himself as his entire world upended itself and landed in a far better status. //Yours.// It was unconsciously sent, but meant with all of who Obi-Wan was.

//Yes, dear one. Mine, as I would be yours,// Qui-Gon answered, kissing him deeper and more intently as Obi-Wan latched onto him. 

//Yes, Master,// Obi-Wan replied, and the full flavor of that word came through, carrying all of Obi-Wan's faith, love, and desire in it. 

Qui-Gon smiled into the kiss, all love and affection and pleasure, and pulled Obi-Wan closer to him -- somehow. //Indeed. ...shall we take this elsewhere, my dear?// 

He rather preferred the comfort of a berth to the decking of a ship, after all. 

That earned another solid moan, before Obi-Wan made himself pull free of the kiss. "Yes, please," he said softly, turning so he could walk that way… but not letting himself out of physical contact with Qui-Gon.

+++

Rattatak was the kind of world that Qui-Gon usually had to grit his teeth on. It was miserable with a war and slave driven culture in place.

There was a surprising level of Force users though, among the Zabrak majority, but it didn't take much time on the planet to hear rumors of a fierce warrior and his companion, one that had overthrown a number of warlords already.

Obi-Wan didn't much care for the place at all, and he wanted them to get off-world as fast as possible. Hopefully the rumors panned out, as he piloted the ship toward the remote keep they had been pointed at.

+++

Asajj Ventress remembered Dathomir. She didn't particularly want to get back to her world, so much as she wanted to have the power of the sisters she remembered, power that would keep her from ever being hurt as she had been during her enslavement.

Ky Narec was bringing her up to a level where she didn't think she needed to fear so much. He was everything that neither her life nor her childhood memories could have made her believe in, as he was a male with compassion and strength, and no inclination to abuse her. If anything, he took bigger risks protecting her than he did for himself, something that exasperated her to no end.

Needless to say, hearing ship engines coming over the horizon made her tense far more than she wanted to admit. Had the other warlords banded together to stop them at last? 

She ran, swiftly, to where her beloved master was, to bring warning to him. Only he raised a hand, his face twisted in concentration.

"I hear it, my child. I think it brings something different, though, not so much a threat." 

"How…" Asajj could not actually hear the ship this deep in their home.

"The Force, dearest." He pushed up from the table he had been sitting at, planning the next town to liberate, and walked over to put his arm around her shoulders. She felt herself straighten, going with him, her pale features fierce in concern and worry. If he was right, so be it.

If not… the invaders would pay dearly.

+++

Qui-Gon had had Obi-Wan (padawan, partner, beloved) set the ship down well clear of the keep, requested he keep his fingers on the ship's fire controls in case they had been misinformed, and left by the ramp. He walked off and towards the forbidding edifice, his eyes searching and the Force stretched out, listening for presences. 

He felt only two, both of which were bright and strong in the Force, one with the contained discipline he was accustomed to from a Jedi, the other... more like a youngling, but even more wild. 

Obi-Wan didn't like this much but he waited, listening and watching with all of his senses. He much preferred to be at his Master's aside.

Ky Narec shifted his body language a bit, moving ahead of his padawan… to her annoyance, he did note… as they exited the keep. The man facing him was certainly dressed like a Jedi, as tall as the esteemed Master Dooku or nearly, by Ky's memory. Perhaps he should know the man; he was close to an age with Ky, but it had been a long time since he left on his mission to explore.

"Greetings, Master Jedi."

"And to you, Knight Narec," Qui-Gon answered, inclining his body in a momentary bow. This was definitely the man he had been searching for. The girl behind him, wary and edged, was... very much what he had been expecting, from what Ben had shared, but there was no taint on her yet that he could sense. "I am Qui-Gon Jinn... and most pleased to have finally found you." 

"Someone came looking? My my." Ky Narec gave an amused smile as he tried to place the name. Odd that he had thought of Master Dooku, given that he was fairly certain this man was the padawan of same. "When I signed up to explore, I was warned, firmly, rescue parties were an option the Temple rarely had due to manpower costs." He did stride down toward the other man, his body language friendly, and his padawan on his heels. "Why do you seek me, not that I am going to protest leaving here if you actually know the way back to proper space? It is not the best life I can give my padawan, after all, this way of trying to liberate a planet that has been beaten bloody."

Qui-Gon's mouth quirked slightly, watching the girl shadowing her master closely, her eyes and body language so very wary of him. "A friend of mine with too many banthas to herd had a Vision of you -- and your padawan -- and the danger you were in here." He reached for the other man's mind, not wanting to frighten the girl, //She holds several shatterpoints, and must not be lost to the Dark.// "So he asked me to come after you. We do, indeed, know the way back home." 

There had been a surge of fierce protective instincts about his padawan, and Ky Narec's eyes narrowed. Visions, however, could sometimes be useful. He knew violence was inherent in his apprentice, but she did have compassion for those weaker than her, a trait he had tried to encourage in their efforts together.

"Asajj, my child, it seems we are going to return to Republic space after all," he said easily, turning enough to put a hand on her slim shoulder. "Does this suit you? Remember, no matter your answer, you will be free to come or go wherever you choose. You are a free being."

She looked at her master, with her heart wrapped around that word as meaning savior and teacher and parent, then back at the tall man. "Where you go, I go, my master." She let her eyes linger, a warning in them that this had better not bring harm to the center of her universe.

Qui-Gon understood that protective flare, and he smiled slightly at the other man's narrowed eyes, nodding slightly. The girl pulled his attention, the warning in her eyes and narrow mouth plain as a shout to him, and he inclined his head to her. He had no wish to see Ky Narec harmed, nor her. "The people here... are there any that could stand against their tormentors, if brought together and supported, or will it all fall apart without you?" 

Ky gave a half-smile at that question; was this man of a like mind on actually bettering lives instead of waiting to be asked in, like most Jedi? "There are revolts that we have not led. While I do not have faith the new lords won't commit the same mistakes, I know that the pendulum is swinging and eventually equilibrium must set in," he said.

"And we have eliminated the most dangerous ones, Master," Asajj pointed out. "There hasn't been a new batch of slaves brought in for over a year, indicating we have strained their resources."

"True enough, my dear." Ky focused on Qui-Gon. "Come, bring your companion in, and spend a night so that Asajj and I may ready to leave. A night planetside and a real meal are the least I can offer for your generosity in rescuing us from here."

Qui-Gon reached along the bond to his padawan, saying, //Come join us, dear one. Ky Narec offers their hospitality for the night.// "Thank you, and we will be glad to accept your offer." 

//Alright. At least we're in the right place?// Obi-Wan sent as he began powering down, and locking controls, as he had a bad feeling there were surely more ruffians closely about.

"I appreciate it. We don't entertain often; the common people aren't certain what to make of us, and the powers that are… well, they don't much care for us changing things." Ky gave a wry smile at that, answered by a sharper one from his padawan.

Qui-Gon smiled at Ky Narec's wry phrasing, and said lightly as Obi-Wan was coming down, "I can't imagine why..." 

After a few minutes, Obi-Wan emerged, and took in the older man and his late-teens apprentice neutrally. He took up his place just off Qui-Gon's shoulder, keeping his features to that same neutral cast. "Hello there. I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi, padawan."

"Ky Narec, Knight, as I am sure you know, and my own padawan, Asajj Ventress." Ky settled both hands on her slim shoulders, both protective and proud of the girl he had found on this remote world.

Qui-Gon nodded -- he not had known more of her name than the first name Narec had said, but Obi-Wan had not known that much, and he was glad to have her full name finally said. Ben had so carefully avoided it, after all. He looked at Padawan Ventress again, and said, "A pleasure to meet you, padawan." 

"Hopefully it remains a pleasant meeting," Asajj said, with polite respect, but cool in her delivery. Obi-Wan half-stared at her for it, but then he really noted the way the man and girl stood. Each was so obviously protective of the other, and he did not feel any other lives in the keep.

"Likewise, I am pleased to meet you both," Obi-Wan said with his most charming smile. 

"Shall we go in?" Ky invited, as he inclined his head to the padawan in greeting. His own padawan was doing her customary sizing up of potential threats; he could not blame her but he did wish she could relax away from such vigilance.

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed and followed the Knight and Padawan into their home. Odd, to think of Jedi having a home that wasn't the Temple, but he had had to find ways to support himself in this long time stranded. 

+++

It had been a pleasant evening: the food and drink were both good, if plain, Narec had been willing to talk about some of his more pleasant experiences exploring before he had crashed here, and their padawans had slowly warmed towards each other as the evening wound on. Obi-Wan had admitted to tiredness and departed for the rooms Narec had offered them, while Qui-Gon had stayed in the main area, wondering if the girl would go to her rest on her own, or if she was wary enough that she would refuse to leave her Master with a stranger. 

He did want to speak to the Knight, but he would prefer the girl not hear of a future that would not be, not if he or Ben or Obi-Wan had anything to say about it. 

Asajj was prickly about the idea of leaving her master alone with the stranger, but they really didn't seem too awful. She was a little tired, and Ky didn't look like he was ending his night any time soon.

"My child, go rest," Ky said softly, squeezing her hand where it rested near him. "I will be fine."

She pouted a little, because it was the expected response, but stood and nodded. "I should rest; I haven't been on a ship since I was brought here." She leaned down to press her forehead to his, then exited the room, with one more warning glance at Qui-Gon. Ky waited a long moment, then sighed.

"Please forgive my apprentice, Qui-Gon. She has not had a life that makes for good social skills, and I have not found adequate company for her since we ended her enslavement."

Qui-Gon shook his head, looking across at the other man as he used the Force to tell him that the girl truly was going towards her bed. "There is nothing to forgive, Ky... especially as she comes from a background like that. She is devoted to you, and wary of strangers. It will take time for her to begin to believe that not everyone means you -- or her, though I think that is less her concern -- harm." 

"She has a strong survival instinct, but she is geared towards thinking there is no harm to herself she cannot overcome," Ky agreed. "Whereas with me… she has seen men die too often." He then settled back in his chair. "You spoke of shatterpoints and Darkness in regards to her, though, and that concerns me. I know she is prone to the harsher emotions, but I am doing my best to praise her moments of compassion, to make them more her focus."

"I would be concerned for your sanity if it did not bother you," Qui-Gon agreed, looking at the other man steadily. "Your death, very soon, was one of the things Seen. And with as devoted to you as she is, without guidance or support after..." 

Ky Narec frowned deeply at that thought. It was not his death that bothered him in the least; it was what would become of his padawan in the face of it. "Then, I truly am most thankful for the intervention. She is… well, I suppose if I were not a Jedi, I would say she is as a child to my heart. I have taken great pride in seeing her evolve from the point I met her at.

"She has such potential, Qui-Gon! Apparently her people are one of those rare races that is naturally inclined towards Force ability, and she imprinted on enough of her first culture to teach herself small tricks," Ky said, growing animated. "I met her and could feel she was far stronger in the Force than the Zabraks around her. Seeing her… in poor straits made me intent on helping her free herself. And that led to us eventually getting rid of the worst of the slavers and warlords."

Qui-Gon smiled at the pride and care that radiated so blatantly from Ky, the affection and devotion. It was good to see, and he nodded at the information Ky poured out to him. "Say it despite being Jedi, if it is true," he replied to those first words, "Temple doctrine has... taken something of a drubbing, in your absence, and I think it much to the good that it has. 

"It must have been startling, to find her here, in that situation. As to ridding the galaxy of that type of... being," his mouth tensed as he chose a carefully neutral word, "if more of us did similarly, there would be a great deal less suffering in the galaxy. ...and rather more corpses to feed the carrion-eaters, I suppose." 

Ky laughed. "So there would, so there would." He lifted his drink in silent toast to that sentiment, took a sip, then set it down. "I'll be perfectly honest. I've been on my own for so long that I do not doubt I will find the Temple confining, and the ways of the Masters chafing. And there is the matter of me taking the child as my padawan without any authority, but I had given up much hope of finding a way back. My own ship was absolutely destroyed, and the ships I've come across are all short range affairs, not meant for long hyperspace travels."

Qui-Gon nodded. He more than understood the idea of finding the Temple confining -- it was so often the case for him, after all -- and his arguments with the Masters of the Council were near-legendary. He sympathized with the trouble Ky foresaw for himself, and it did not help with his opinions about the Temple and its ways. 

"She needed a teacher," he replied, "and to the hells with any of them that would give you difficulty over teaching her. There is an entire _Rim_ of children who should be instructed in the balanced use of the Force, or at the very least of the temptations of the Dark Side, and we ignore them at our own peril. Had Master Altis departed from the Order when you left?" 

"Altis… Djinn? He left? Well, that's no surprise I suppose; wore his heart on his sleeve and it irritated his Master to no end," Ky said. "I did place you as Master Dooku's student correctly, yes?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed, nodding once. "I did indeed have that honor -- and frustration," he elaborated with a smile. "And as to Master Altis, yes, he left... and took with him a few other Knights who were as sick of some of the interpretations of the Code as he was. I... probably should have followed them, after I had my Knighthood," he admitted wryly. "But then, if I had, I never would have met _my_ padawan." And that thought was... intolerable, now. "He is teaching others from his particular standpoint on Bespin. If you or young Ventress find the Temple too much of a trial, he would likely welcome you." 

"I appreciate that information," Ky told him. "And may well have to see. Does Master Yoda still run the Order? Who is current Master of the Order for him?" He settled in to learn what he could. so he would be best prepared to protect his padawan, the child of his heart.

"My grand-master does indeed," Qui-Gon agreed with a wry smile and a half-shake of his head, "and he is probably the most disgruntled at the shakeup making its way through the Temple. Do you recall Mace Windu? He is Master of the Order now." 

"The name is not familiar, but I didn't know many outside of my social circle," Ky said. "With Master Yoda still Grand Master, it would be hard for proper change or reform to come to Jedi matters, I fear. There is a problem in becoming inflexible with age, something I am trying to avoid.

"Having a young, and headstrong, padawan seems to be helping with that." He smiled fondly for all the ways Asajj did push him out of his personal comfort zones. He had known nothing about children or teenagers when he acquired her, after all, especially girls.

Qui-Gon chuckled softly, nodding once. "Master Yoda _is_ trying, but I do not know how far he will be willing to go. Not far enough, perhaps -- but he could surprise me." He had to actually laugh at the comment about a young, headstrong padawan, his mind momentarily flicking outwards to check on his own. Sleeping peacefully... good. "And there is much truth in what you say about both age and impetuous padawans. 

"Master Windu is Korun, from Haruun Kal. As a Knight, he trained as a Guardian -- logical, I suppose, for someone who sees shatterpoints as clearly as he does. He's gone and resurrected Juyo, though apparently altered and renamed, which may tell you something about his personality." 

"Hmm, it does indeed," Ky said, unsure what to make of that. "And the Council? Is it a balanced viewpoint, or heavily slanted in one direction or the other? When I left, it was quite firmly in the hands of those who believed the Jedi should only go where invited, even if word of great injustice reached us through non-official means."

Qui-Gon made a disgusted noise at that particular school of thought, even as he considered the answer. "It isn't as bad as it was a few years ago, but there is still _far_ too much of that viewpoint," he replied, letting his frustration at the fact show. "As you may be able to tell, I regularly feud with them on that topic... among others. Masters Plo Koon, Adi Gallia, and Depa Billaba have made some headway in changing that, but I fear while Master Rancisis remains on the Council there will always be a loud voice for it." 

"There I agree wholeheartedly with you, if I am remembering his traits correctly." Ky sighed softly. "I will do what I need to, to both protect my young padawan and to serve the Force as I feel called to do. Being able to use it is a gift, but to be a Jedi is a responsibility. One I take seriously."

Qui-Gon smiled at him more for that, full and honest. He liked this man, approved of his dedication to what they were meant to be, and was looking forward to _his_ clashes with the Council. "So it is... so it is indeed." 

"Your padawan… has he had dealings with people who have had traumatic incidents?" Ky asked softly, growing faintly more serious. "I worry, for Asajj, as she truly is not socialized in anything approaching a healthy manner. And I would hate for them to misunderstand one another, since she tends to be a bit… sharp in expressing herself."

Qui-Gon considered his padawan's past and nodded. "He has... he spent quite some time on Melida/Daan, before the Young finally brought that war to a hopefully-permanent end, among other incidents. But I will mention that he cannot use his raising in the Temple as even a vague guide to her behavior, before he forgets." 

"I appreciate that. And I will work on curbing her sharper edges," Ky promised. "It's very important, given what you've said, for me to get her acclimated to the possibility of friendships outside of our training bond."

Qui-Gon nodded his agreement with Ky's words, before smiling slightly. "I would agree. Obi-Wan has usually made friends easily; we'll hope it's true in this case as well. What else do you need to know, Ky, that I haven't thought of to tell you?" 

"I can't think of much. I never was one for politics, and I could care less about galactic gossip," he said. "My truest concern at present is how to both protect and guide Asajj, and you've given me a start on knowing how to handle that."

That was another thing Qui-Gon completely understood, and he nodded. "I am glad... and I have found there is no greater concern, when one has a padawan in their care. Rest well, Ky." 

+++

Dooku, mostly retired Jedi, was bored enough that he was actively listening to his old friend go on about Force visions and Council short-sightedness, and mostly wondering how he could convince Sifo-Dyas to just see the Order was too broken to continue with and to just join him on Serenno permanently.

A page, however, broke his attention from that argument, coming to his side.

"Sifo, my dear friend, do pause a moment in your brilliant tirade over Jedi insecurities and failings," Dooku insisted. The other man did, curious about the page's business.

"A ship, registered to the Jedi Temple, is on approach, my lord," the page said. "The reason for coming was given as personal business with you. I thought you would like to be made aware."

"Thank you." Dooku stood from his chair and looked at his longtime friend. "I should see to this. Odd for someone to come looking for me that is not you or Jocasta."

"Of course, my friend," Sifo-Dyas replied, though the presence of another Jedi was puzzling to him, too. "I will wait for your return -- most curiously." 

Dooku walked out and up to the landing pads, nodding to the people he passed. His life was slightly more satisfying now that he had taken on the responsibilities of government that were his birthright. 

He only sometimes felt like he was missing out on more potential by remaining here. If he could prove his way was best, by making Serenno fit his concepts of proper civilization… well, it was a challenge worth having.

+++

Qui-Gon piloted the ship down, landing with a light easy touch on the controls. Obi-Wan was safely in the Temple, doing what he could to help Asajj and Ky settle in there, and now that they _were_ safe, it was time to see how far down into the Darkness his Master had slipped, or if that was still to come. He hoped, so intensely, that the answer was that it had not begun yet... and the sight of his Master having come out to the pads startled him. 

Dooku was not dressed as a Jedi, rather as the Count of Serenno he had become, and Qui-Gon was startled to feel a pang at the change. He acknowledged it, sighed deeply, and put the pain away before his Master could see it and use it against him. He shut down the ship as he did, and went to go see the man he had not so much as spoken to via comm in... kriff, nearly five years? How had he let it go so long? 

Dooku's chin came up and he felt a sharp pang at the sight of the last person he expected to see, wondering just how anyone had convinced his bull-headed padawan to do their bidding. So far as he was concerned, any Jedi that was neither Jocasta nor Sifo, was likely here to rebuke him over taking up political matters on his homeworld.

"Qui-Gon," he said in a firmly neutral voice.

"Hello, Master," Qui-Gon replied, startled at the sight of his Master looking both surprised and almost wounded. He left the ship completely and moved towards him, unconsciously searching his face for any miniscule cue as to what his mentor was truly thinking. "Are you well?" 

"I am." Dooku kept his hands folded behind his back as the younger man joined him. "Which one of them enjoined you to come harp at me?" he asked bluntly, revealing just what he was thinking.

Qui-Gon frowned, then shook his head. "No, Master. None of the Council sent me -- as though I ever respond well to that kind of tactic?" How was it that at more than sixty, his Master could still make him feel as young as his own padawan, if not younger? 

"Hmm. Then why are you here?" Dooku asked, turning and indicating his padawan should walk with him inside. "Forgive me for being so blunt, Qui-Gon, but I seem to recall our last meeting ending with words over your continued issues with letting go."

Qui-Gon made a quietly, darkly amused noise, and fell into place at his Master's side as easily as he ever had. "I suppose you could say it is that same discussion that brings me, Master. Some very unsettling things have been Seen recently, and one of them made me quite concerned for you."

Dooku raised an elegant eyebrow at his padawan, even as he guided him toward a more private chamber for talking than where he'd been entertaining Sifo. "I have heard quite a bit of Force Visions of late, and they seem quite distressing in their need to encourage the Order to pursue their political masters."

"Oh?" Qui-Gon asked, arching one eyebrow of his own in response. "And I wasn't aware you'd come around to that particular viewpoint on the Order's relationship -- or lack thereof -- with the Senate, Master." 

Dooku made a contemplative hum. "I have had more than enough of the Senate's meddling in recent years… and maintain that the Hyperspace conflict would not have been so severe if the Jedi had remained out of what should have been a strictly commercial dealing.

"It's well and fine to go to those worlds the Senate deems worthy of consideration, yet how often does that chancellor of yours manage to hand over enough details to let the consular or guardian who goes understand the full depth of the issue? This has been going on since I was much younger, and only growing worse."

"I don't necessarily disagree with you on that last, Master," Qui-Gon replied, thinking of how many times he had found he only had a portion of the information -- and not the important portion, at that! The number of times that had nearly gotten his padawan hurt... "Though he is hardly 'my' chancellor. And the longer I wander, the more convinced I am that where we are needed is less where the Senate wishes and more in the Rim." 

"Hmm, and here I thought the days of our being in agreement long past, my padawan," Dooku said, as he turned them into a small study and indicated a chair. "A drink?" he offered, walking to the small selection of liquors he kept in this room. "I thought you and Finis Valorum were bosom friends. I've heard your name praised as the Jedi dealing with his debacles regularly, or that of your young friend Adi Gallia."

Qui-Gon moved to sit, answering, "I would hope not, Master," to that first comment. "At least, not about everything, though it's true enough that there are some things we may never agree on. I would not mind a drink, thank you." He gave in to the impulses to actually roll his eyes at that last commentary, though. "I am frequently the one he calls on," he admitted, "I think he appreciates my willingness to tell him exactly what I think of a situation." 

Dooku gave a small laugh at that, as that was very much exactly like his padawan. "As blunt as ever, my friend?" He poured two brandies native to the southern islands of his planet and brought them over, giving one to Qui-Gon before settling in the chair next to him. "I am through with the Order, Qui-Gon. I've had my fill of their pandering and careful maneuvers to not offend the Senate. I have a purpose here, one that allows me to utilize all of my skills."

"I am glad you have found something that calls to you, Master," Qui-Gon replied, lifting the brandy to take a sip. He let it burn slowly through his mouth, down his throat, enjoying the flavor. "And I did not come to try to convince you to return -- the stars will die before I convince you of anything you do not wish to hear, and well I know it." 

"Well, you learned at least one lesson then." Dooku said it dryly; he considered Qui-Gon both an absolutely stellar achievement… and a personal failure all in one. The latter stemmed mostly from Qui-Gon's stubborn insistence on letting people get close enough to hurt him. "So, the visions bringing you here, what are they? As I am not a factor in Jedi issues any longer, I am curious."

Qui-Gon made a quiet hum -- even he wasn't sure if it was agreement or negation of that 'one lesson' -- and took another sip of the brandy before he reached to lay his other hand across his Master's wrist, his eyes locking with his Master's. "Horror, war, destruction, death... and losing you like I lost Xan, except even more completely. The Sith live." 

Dooku arched an eyebrow at the mention of the Fallen padawan, a promising boy who had failed to live up to his potential, and managed to prove Dooku's assertion about betrayal and harm from attachments.

"While I am certain there are those who would count me Fallen for pursuing my life here, Qui-Gon, I know the boundaries." He then made a continuing motion. "As to the Sith, what proof have you beyond visions? After all, the future is a murky undertaking to discern." He did wonder at it, for this was not quite anything like Sifo's worries. Dooku had been in discussion with several other leaders, concerned over the Republic's internal power struggles, and yes, there had been talk of forming a new confederacy to protect themselves, but Sith? Him, Falling? Nonsense.

Qui-Gon snorted disdain at the idea of his Master's step back equating to a Fall, still so inclined to defend him against all comers even now, before he returned his focus to the discussion with his teacher. "I watched Master Windu knocked nearly comatose from the destruction of shatterpoints at the revelation of the current Sith Master's identity, for one," he replied, "and the shadow that has dogged every Seer from Master Yoda to the youngest Initiates with the gift has lifted." 

"Ahh, well, that would be potent evidence," Dooku conceded. He reached up to stroke his beard in contemplation, considering his padawan's warning. "Wait… you said the Seers are having clouds over their visions?" he asked, suddenly concerned for the vision his friend had brought to him. 

"Have been for some time, Master," Qui-Gon agreed. "It's not something anyone has wanted to mention, but for those with that aptitude, it has apparently been worse than those early lessons with the blast shields and remotes." 

Dooku actively frowned, then rose, carrying his drink with him. "Follow me, my padawan." It would be just like his infernal master to have argued with Sifo over the damnable visions… and never admit to the man that visions had been clouded! Because Sifo was often on his own, he might not have heard any of that!

And to know a Sith was in existence? Visions could be manipulated, like any aspect of the Force.

Qui-Gon looked worriedly at his Master's back, the set of his shoulders, and rose to follow quickly. The particular noise of his Master's heels against the flooring was no more comforting than the set of his shoulders. 

The elder man led the way to an audience room, where Master Sifo-Dyas was seated within. 

"Dooku? Ahh, Master Jinn. It has been some time, yes?"

"Pleasantries later, Sifo," Dooku said firmly. "My old friend, on that matter of your visions, did a single other Seer admit to you that none of them have been able to see a clear vision?"

"Ahh, no. They based their arguments with me on the unlikelihood, and the preposterousness, and that it was a Senate or Military issue, not ours," Sifo admitted.

Qui-Gon shook his head, raking a hand through his hair as he suddenly understood one of those earlier remarks from his Master, and he spared a few acid thoughts towards the Council for the way they had chosen to argue with Master Sifo-Dyas. He left his Master's side to walk near the other Master, watching his long-time friend steadily. "That," he said mildly, "is hardly the entirety of the matter. No one with that aptitude has seen clearly in years... except you. In one sense, anyway." 

"I am confused then, for I do not see why I should succeed where others, stronger, have failed?" Sifo shook his head. "The visions have been quite strong, beginning nearly twenty years ago, in flashes, right here on this world," he said, looking to Dooku. "Those debates with you and Hego Demask… I thought the visions but dreams, playing off the concerns over the Republic, but they have grown stronger ever since."

"I fear, old friend, that you have been manipulated," Dooku told him. "To see clearly when others may not speaks of such, and Qui-Gon brings word that the ancient enemy, the Sith, is known to still exist."

Qui-Gon nodded his agreement with his Master's assessment, watching Master Sifo-Dyas. That was an angle he had not previously considered, but it did make sense. 

"But such a thing… if it stands any chance of coming to be, the Republic must be prepared," Sifo said, frowning intently, his fixation on what he had seen ringing with full conviction… and it made Dooku turn his head, slightly, reading his friend's presence within the Force.

There were manipulations at work, strong ones, and he wondered at that. "Then, my old friend, I shall take this to my own allies, in a roundabout fashion, and see what I can do to safeguard the future." His voice was deceptively gentle, reassuring… and Qui-Gon could feel the steel rising in his Master's determination.

"The Republic does need to be prepared," Qui-Gon agreed quietly, before looking down at Master Sifo-Dyas again. "But if you are already considering Kamino... I beg you to not do so, Master." 

"Kamino?" Sifo-Dyas blinked in surprise at him. "And how did you hear of that world, Master Jinn? It was mentioned in passing when I discussed these matters with a concerned citizen, one willing to handle the costs."

"Damask?" Dooku asked, as he considered who had been present for those discussions in the past, and Sifo nodded. Dooku looked at his former padawan. "Perhaps, Qui-Gon, you might wish to investigate that one's ties to the Sith you know of."

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed, sharp and dangerous, as one of the founding mysteries of Obi-Wan's story suddenly solved itself. And wasn't that just something? "I heard the name -- and what they do -- from the same person that told me who the Sith is, Master Dyas. And you may be certain I will, Master." 

Sifo shook his head. "I worry over the future so much more with these revelations."

"We will find a way around these machinations, my friend," Dooku assured him. "Put your mind at ease and focus on the now."

Qui-Gon nodded, agreeing with his Master, and reached to touch Master Sifo-Dyas' hand lightly. "My Master is right," he said, mildly amused at the fact, given all else he had been told. 

+++

Anakin had always Seen things, even before Ben had come to free Mom and him five years ago, and all of his training in the Force had only made that stronger. He had learned how to focus on the visions, even in his dreams... and he was dreaming now. He had been on many worlds since that, but the world he was Seeing now was none he had visited. A city on a cliff, with water everywhere and huge, domed buildings. A city under water, in huge gleaming bubbles. A swamp, wide plains -- and droids everywhere. Droids with blasters in long-fingered hands, spindly beings in solid ranks. People suffering, dying, at their hands. 

And a woman like no one he had ever seen. White makeup blanking and smoothing her face, except for red lips and red spots on her cheeks. Dark eyes, hard and determined, dark hair in an elaborate headdress of gold and red that curved around her face. Elaborate red robes with jewels. 

The same eyes, same jaw, without makeup, simple practical clothing, and a blaster in her hand, shots taking down some of the droids -- and then her falling with the burn of a blaster across her back. And the droids marching, marching, killing... 

He came awake with a shout, his heart hammering. 

Shmi and Ben both heard that cry; Ben had done a lot of work to carve out a third cabin out of the space of two so that everyone had separate quarters, but the interior walls were thin by necessity. The two adults met and Ben let Shmi go in first to comfort her son. He took a spot at the foot of the bed while she sat on the edge.

"Shh, Ani, shh," Shmi soothed gently.

Anakin pushed into his mother's arms, wrapping around her as he buried his head against her shoulder. "So many dead, Mom... so many..." 

"Oh my son," she said, using the low-level Force tricks she had learned to help Anakin find his calm and settle enough to tell them. She had no wish to learn the full range of abilities, but the healing and emotional methods had appealed to her nurturing side.

"Calm and focus, my padawan," Ben said softly. "Tell us when you are able, the details, so we can try and help." He hated seeing Anakin so upset, but… it soothed his heart, too. This was the boy he had loved before, the one who needed to help.

Anakin nodded, slowly, breathing hard, clinging to his mother with one arm, while he reached for his teacher, his Master, with his other hand. He held on tight, breathing slowly, leaning into the calming exercise his mother was doing, and slowly managed to settle. It took a while, possibly too long, but... he was finally breathing easily, and he moved to look at his Master. "I didn't know the world, Master. There was a city on the surface, but one underwater, some kind of bubbles all strung together?" 

"Gungan City on Naboo. Likely, you saw Theed on the surface… tall and situated on a cliff?" Ben asked, even as he felt a fear in his gut. Had they not managed to change enough? What were the Masters of the Council doing about Palpatine? Why did Naboo still take the focus?

"This is part of the future you fear?" Shmi asked astutely.

"For me, it all begins at Naboo, though it would have been at least a year and a half ago."

Anakin nodded quickly at the description of the city, relaxing a little because his Master knew where it was they needed to go. "Very tall, and so many streams and waterfalls down the cliff... and so many droids. Sand-colored, and gangly... but with blasters, heavy ones. Marching, and killing." 

He frowned, remembering something else, "And others, that turned almost into wheels and rolled along? Yes." He nodded to himself, and looked back to his Master again. "And I think I saw an angel, except she fought..." 

"Trade Federation B1s and Droidekas." Ben grimaced, shaking his head. "I'll need to teach you how to cope with a shielded droid." He pinched the bridge of his nose, then gave Anakin a smile. "As to your angel, my padawan, I have no doubt in my mind you were seeing Padmé Amidala, current elected Queen of the Naboo.

"She is a warrior, but she is a firm believer in negotiation and peace."

"You are amused by her being in Ani's vision," Shmi pointed out, trying to draw out why.

"Anakin and Padmé were quite close in that other life." Ben squeezed Anakin's hand. "Can you detect when it might be, how distant? I need to know if we have time to touch base at the Temple, or should we go directly there."

Anakin frowned, thinking as he leaned against his Mom, trying to tell. He hadn't Seen anything that had a strong impression of time, except the plants had looked strong, not thin like plants during 'winter' sometimes looked... but there had been so much death. So much death, so much pain, maybe he could tell from that. He turned inward, trying to tell... "Not long, Master." 

'Padmé Amidala'... it was a beautiful name. Fitting, for an angel... 

"Then we'll go directly, and I'll send a coded message to Master Jinn," Ben told him, rising to go handle those details. "Be strong, Anakin. We will do all we can to save the Naboo and Gungan peoples."

Shmi petted her son's hair. "As Ben said, dear one," she told Anakin.

"I know we will, Master," Anakin agreed, watching his Master go. "That's what we do." That was what he wanted to do, to help people, to protect them. The idea of destroying droids ached... but he couldn't let them hurt people, either. 

+++

Ben went to the cockpit and encrypted his comms to the best of his ability, then punched Qui-Gon's code directly. With any luck, he was at the Temple, or close enough to convey the message that needed to be delivered.

Qui-Gon made a startled noise as his comm chirped, but reached for it and answered. The sight of Ben made his eyes widen, but he said only, "Hello, old friend. What is it?" 

"The Sith plan is still in effect, Master," Ben said wearily. "Anakin had a vision of a droid army on Naboo. We are en route there, or will be as soon as I recalculate. I don't rule out that this is a feint, and that Palpatine isn't about to unleash something else as well. Is there a formal blockade in place that you know of, due to trade restrictions, or is the Trade Federation acting more directly?"

Qui-Gon shook his head, frowning. "I heard something about renewed trouble between Naboo and the Trade Federation about the plasma mining, but I am afraid I am not so often the Chancellor's chosen, with it now being Antilles rather than Valorum. I will see what I can learn, and be in touch again soon.

"Do be careful, and may the Force be with you.." 

"And with you, Master." Ben gave him a faint smile. "I get to go see if love at first sight strikes yet again…" He chuckled, seeing the better of events. 

Qui-Gon shook his head in amusement and closed the comm, glad to see that Ben looked much more stable, much better, now than he had when they had first met. 

Ben set about getting them on their way to Naboo, trying to see the positive side of it all. The invasion was later, the Queen would be more experienced by now, and he knew how to stop the droid army swiftly. There would be no running back and forth, he decided. Get there, catch them in the invasion, and end it. Swiftly.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The invasion on Naboo was the opening to the War.  
> 2\. The clones may still have been created... once Dooku and Sifo-Dyas were turned to helping against the Sith, Palpatine found another avenue. And Obi-Wan never actually checked Kamino.  
> 3\. I have no idea how it would have gone from there. Sorry? Or, better, feel free to think up your own endings!


End file.
